Backwood
by Jesse Unedited
Summary: When Peyton Hale finds her current boyfriend cheating, she runs back to her hometown for the summer. There, old memories and an old flame remind Peyton of the girl she used to be. Now Peyton must decide which life, and guy, she wants to keep.
1. Chapter 1

The windows of the rear-facing wall at the RDU terminal gate B19 were already starting to fog. It was going to be a typical June day in Raleigh— humid and _hot_; it wasn't even _noon _yet. I checked my tickets again, making sure that I was sitting at the right gate. All I needed was to get on the wrong flight and end up in the middle of the indigenous South American forests with a guy who didn't understand English but was very prone to stare. _Only a couple more hours_, I thought to myself wistfully. _Only a couple more hours and you can forget. _

But I couldn't forget; no, it would be next to _impossible _to forget the awful beginning I'd had to the summer after my last year of high school. I leaned my head against the stiff black chairs, repositioning my body in a wasted effort to get comfortable. I still had another hour before I'd board a plane to Springfield, Kentucky— the much anticipated destination of my summer. I'd moved away from Springfield two years prior with my eccentric mother, never to look back. It was a decision I hadn't regretted up until about a week ago. Now, I was subjecting myself to an entire summer there with my Grandmama and old friends. _Joy,_ I thought sarcastically, letting myself daydream as I stared out at the cloudless sky.

I was just dozing when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I jumped and flipped open the cover to see that it was my mother, calling for the _hundredth _time.

_Ignore it_, I wanted to tell myself, but I knew that if I did, she'd send in the SWAT team to find me. She'd always been protective; when I was younger, it'd been no big deal because I needed her to watch out for me. But now, at 18, it was just embarrassing. The phone stopped buzzing and I smiled, hoping that she'd given up. Then it vibrated again.

_No such luck._ "Hello?" I answered.

She sighed, seemingly relieved, into the phone. "Peyton Maye Hale, what took you so long to answer?"

I could see my mother's worried face in my mind; all of her laugh lines, carved from years of gullibility, would be turned down with worry. Her straight graying hair, the stark opposite of mine pulled back into a pony tail. Even her blue eyes, which matched my own, would be blazing with anxiety. She was crazy and eccentric, formerly an actress who still liked to improv on the weekends. My mom, who renamed herself Anna when she turned eighteen, felt that good parenting meant tracking me like I was on the FBI's most wanted list.

I laughed, picturing my mother weighted down with tracking devices, turning this way and that to locate a signal. "Relax _Mom_," I groaned into the phone. "You really have to _stop _worrying. I'm still in the terminal, and we haven't even begun to board." _Thanks for that, _I added in my head. _Thank you for getting me here an hour and a _half _early— just so I can sit here and wallow in my self-pity. _A few blonde strands of hair fell out of my carefully constructed pony tail, and I sighed. "Listen... I'm safe. No stranger has attempted to approach me, and I haven't been attacked by airport security yet. Can you _please _stop calling every five minutes?"

"It hasn't been every _five _minutes," my mother scoffed. "And Peyton, baby, it's just because I love you." Then she exhaled. "But if you _swear _to call me before _and_ after you get on that plane, I'll stop calling. But you have to-"

"Alright," I agreed hurriedly, "I love you, bye!" And I snapped the phone shut.

I pulled the twenty something bobby pins out of my incredibly thick, unmanageable hair and let it out of the hair tie. It fell in long pleats about my shoulders—which, I noted, needed a lot of sun. In fact, vitamin D would do my slender body some _much needed_ good. Frowning down at the freckles that sprinkled across my forearms, I made a mental note to pick up some sun block when I arrived later on this afternoon. My hair, like a poodle's thick and coarse coat, would be impossible to rearrange my ponytail without a mirror. I also felt too lethargic to head to a restroom that was nearby. So, instead, I raked my fingers through my hair and leaned my head back against the seat.

But I wasn't paying careful enough attention to my thoughts, which I'd been trying to keep on top of for the past couple of days, because suddenly I was swamped with the image of _my _boyfriend, my beautiful boyfriend, being straddled by some _other _girl.

I could still clearly see Brandon's shocked face and I choked back the never ending tears. Wiping my hand under my cheek I told myself that I would _not _cry over him, not anymore. However, just because I wasn't crying over it didn't mean that it still didn't upset me. Nor could I help but be sucked back to the previous Friday, when my quiet existence suddenly became incredibly hectic.

It was the afternoon of my four month anniversary with my boyfriend Brandon Taylor. It was also the last day of high school; of course, I was stuck _after _school with a teacher trying to make up a test I'd missed, rather than celebrating with my friends. But that morning, Brandon offered to pick me up after I finished and I'd given him the time when I thought I'd be done. However, the test was much easier than I thought, so I managed to finish _way _earlier than I'd predicted.

_I'll surprise him_— I thought, slinging my bag onto my shoulder. I couldn't wait for tonight, and I could only _imagine_ what he had in store for us. Brandon didn't come from money but he was lavish with gifts and dinners. With Brandon, I would have been happy to sit at home and stare at him, but he insisted on taking me out. Brandon was by far the cutest boy at our school, and he played soccer like a professional. He'd been my best friend before we'd started dating and _that_ story was an entire different one in itself. But all that was in the past, and now it was just he and I… just us two against the world.

_Us. _I relished the word on my tongue, happily repeating it down the hall. God, it felt good to finally say that. One of the things I hadn't grown accustomed to since I'd been dating Brandon was that we were a '_we_' and an _'us'_. It was an odd feeling to know that Brandon was _mine. _And that he wanted _me _nearly as much as I wanted _him._

There was no doubt in my mind that I couldn't _be _happier— it simply wasn't humanly possible. And it was a great feeling to know that.

Three _whole _months had passed since Brandon had told me he loved me. We spent the time together in bliss— laughing at jokes no one else understood, kissing between classes, holding hands on our way to the parking lot. Brandon told me he loved me at least once a day; every time, it never failed to send an electric shock through me. I was dumbfounded as to how I landed such an _amazing _guy. Sometimes, I would catch him looking at me like I'd looked at him when we were only friends. And of course, a blush spread into my cheeks. This only made him laugh and he'd kiss my forehead and pull me into his arms. The nights we spent together, lying on a blanket under the stars, were the ones where I felt like I was in a dream. Brandon was _too _good to be true. But yet, he _loved _me. And I loved him, more than anyone or anything— more than _myself._

My friends would laugh when I'd go _on _and _on_, relaying every detail of a date or every word of a conversation, and they'd tell me that I was _'crazy'_. "Crazy in love," I'd agreed. I was still taken aback every time I saw him with his perfect hair and teeth and eyes and… _everything. _He looked all-American with his chestnut hair with honey streaks and perfect green eyes. I always ended up breathless every time he would pull me into his embrace.

I smiled to myself, thinking of kissing him until we were _both_ breathless, as I padded down the hallway and out the back doors. I stopped just outside and looked around, taking in the summer afternoon. Raleigh, at this point in early June, was spectacular. Everything was lush with green and flowers bloomed in the manicured gardens spread around the school property. However, even in the beauty of this place, there was something missing.

I expecting Brandon's car to be there. _You're early,_ I told myself and shook my head, chuckling. I nearly turned back to go check out front, hoping that maybe he'd forgotten _where _I told him to pick me up, when something caught my eye.

Parked beneath an old shrub, sat Brandon's car. At first, I thought maybe I'd been mistaken. But I saw the signature lime green beamer, which was a gag gift from his parents, and knew that it _had _to be his. There was something _off _about it, though. It was angled in a way that made it quite impossible for someone to see it from where I was standing, but _why_ it was parked like that was the real mystery.

I remembered back to the first time Brandon had taken _me_ there. We'd parked back behind the eucalyptus shrub and he'd stolen those _oh so _infamous kisses.

My belly was suddenly full of sickening butterflies.

Carefully, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Brandon. He picked up on the third ring, which was odd because Brandon almost never did that, especially when I was calling. It was also odd that he was panting, "Hello?" _Why does he sound like he's been running a marathon when he's parked in his car?_

I swallowed against my suspicions, hoping to sound cheerful. "Hey Brandon, I'm finished with my test. You said you'd pick me—"

He cut me off, "So _early_?" And then I heard him chuckle, and he shushed someone. That someone wasn't me.

"Brandon?" I asked.

"Sorry baby doll, I'm on my way. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

"But…" I began, about to point out the fact that he was already here, when I heard the sound of a _female _voice laughing.

"Yeah?" Brandon said.

"But I have a ride home," I replied, stoically, praying that my ears were lying.

Though Brandon sounded disappointed, I picked out that _thread_ of excitement. "But what about _our _three months?"

I shook with rage, _how could he do this to me_? He thought he was so _smooth_, while I could clearly _see _his car. "It's only three months," I told him, coolly. _It's only three months, it's only three months— it_ became a mantra; I was repeating over and over. _It's only been three months, not enough time to build _anything.

_Anything but my hopes, _I thought in anguish. I wasn't overreacting, because I could now clearly hear the same female voice whispering something to Brandon. Then I heard the three words I'd told him so many times over: _"I love you,"_ she cooed into his ear. Her voice was so close to the phone that I felt if she had said it to me. Brandon quickly rearranged himself and tried to cough to cover it up.

My jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Whatever you say," he sighed, coughing one more time for emphasis. A tear coursed down my cheek and I could almost feel my happiness and my _heart_ shatter. I'd never been cheated on before… _ever_. I'd also never been _this _crazy about a boy. Brandon was my _everything; _he was the air around me and the sun shining down. He was my life and I'd put everything on the line to be with him.

"Bye," I whispered.

Brandon said nothing before the line went dead. It was the first phone conversation we'd had where he hadn't said that he loved me.

I wondered who he was with, and I was overcome with sadness. As I blinked back tears, my mind tried to feed me excuses. _Maybe he can see you, maybe he has a surprise or maybe he just needs some air. _

But the rest of me knew that he wasn't thinking about me at that moment. Why would another girl tell him that she _loved _him? Love was such a fragile thing and so sacred in my eyes, so the fact that she'd used the L-word made his betrayal sting that much worse. Of course, I had no idea if they were fooling around; I had no proof. But deep down I knew that they _were_, I could just _feel _it within my core.

I was crying, and it reminded me a night— seeming, now, so long ago— where he told me he _didn't _love me. He'd lied to me then, because he didn't think he felt anything _more_ for me than lust. Regardless, the pain had been similar to this. It felt like I was stabbed, through and through, and the searing pain in my belly made me tremble. However this time, the truth wouldn't make my heart race with joy— it would kill me to learn.

Rage came then, like a crack of lightening, and my vision was rimmed with a red haze. I wanted to punch something, or to cause damage— to inflict an_ ounce_ of the pain I was feeling. I slung my bag over my shoulder marched down the strip of sidewalk— heading straight for Brandon's car.

Pushing back the shrub branches, I was faced with the most horrific sight I'd ever seen. Sitting in the driver's seat of the car, Brandon was being straddled by someone. He had his arms wrapped around her waist— straining her closer to him.

I let out a sob and Brandon's eyes flew open. We locked gazes and he pushed the girloff of his lap. She was no stranger to either of us, because she was the varsity cheerleader who shared a table with Brandon and I at lunch. She was also Brandon's ex, a girl who he'd dumped to be with me.

Tears sprang up again, filling my eyes and I was blinded. I blinked them away, willing myself to see Brandon's deception. No one spoke for a long moment until she mumbled something to Brandon and climbed out of the car. I could see that she needed to walk past me to escape, and I could do nothing but cry as I took a step forward to let her pass. She said nothing to me, but I could read the smug look on her face. _You thought he was yours?_ Her face mocked me, _you really _must _be crazy. _

"Pey—" Brandon began, but I had already stalked away before he could finish. I heard his door slam, followed by the sounds of his footsteps. A hand grabbed my shoulder, and I flew around.

The back of my hand caught Brandon's cheek with a _crack_, and he backed away. My chest heaved with fury and sorrow, and tears coursed down my cheeks. "How could you? You… _you_ _pig,_" I spat the words in his face.

He tried to explain, but I held up a hand to stop him. He was going to _hear _my piece before he even _began _to _think _of what he could possibly come up with as an excuse. Pulling a hand through his hair, he waited as I collected my thoughts. They were scattered briefly, because I was caught up in the sight of him. But his features, once so attractive, now seemed repulsive to me and I shuddered. I couldn't stand to meet the eyes I'd gazed into only _days _before.

"You… are disgusting. I can't believe you would _do _this to me." I said calmly, still trembling. I was losing it— _fast._

"No, let me explain-"

"NO!" I screamed, taking a step forward so that I was inches from his nose. "I catch you with that _slut! _And you think you can _explain._"

"I know, Peyton. And I'm sorry! But it just happened." He was begging me to understand, I could see it in his eyes. But if he thought that I would forgive him, he had another thing coming. Looking into him face, I could see the sorrow. It was _hurting _him to see me like this, mascara streaming down _my _face and me screaming in _his_. I wanted him to hurt and I was _happy _to think that it did. He would _suffer _now, I tried to tell myself.

However, the other half of me was torn. Though I was furious with him, I didn't _not _love him anymore. I hadn't fallen out of love with him within the past three minutes. I still was _crazy _about him, and I still wanted nothing more than to run into his arms. But my pride wouldn't let me just yet, and he would _know _my fury.

"It didn't just happen, Brandon—" I hissed. " I was finally beginning to even _think _that _maybe _I was right— that I was _right _in believing that you _loved _me, too. But I was just another game, wasn't I?" The words suddenly became so true in my ears that I was overcome with another wave of grief. _That's all I am_, I whispered in my mind. "And I finally began to think that I'm good _enough _for _you_!" I was thinking aloud and hadn't realized he'd heard me when he began to stammer something else.

"You are!" he sputtered, trying to reach for me."I love you Peyton, _my _Peyton." But his words held no value in my ear anymore. I was still caught up in the fact that I was just another notch on his bedpost. I wasn't _special _to him! The fact was clear now, and I understood how he'd so _easily _cheated on me. It was because I was just like _her,_ the girl he'd just been with. I was just another _girl_ he'd tell his friends about. Brandon began to say something more.

"Shut up!" I screamed, slapping his hand away. I was now _enraged_. The fact that he was _using _me and that I was just another pretty face had infuriated me. I wanted to _smack _him again. "Just for once, shut the _hell_ up! Brandon, I meant it when I told you I loved you. And I've meant it _every _time since then." He was going to get it now. "I _love _you! Don't you _get _that? Don't you see _all _that I've _done _for you? You dirty, filthy— And for _once_, I was stupid enough to believe that _maybe _you loved me, too. I knew I shouldn't have fallen for you; because you are _you! _And you have a reputation of doing _this_! You've done it before— back last year. It was with a different girl, and then one after another you just went through them. Or should I say _us _now, because I'm just another one of them, am I not?" I was shaking my fist in my face, and I poked him hard in the chest, causing him to teeter back a step. "But I overlooked _all _of that, because to me— you were _perfect. _And you were good… and _everything _to me! I didn't think I was good enough for awhile, but I pushed all that aside, because I thought I actually had a shot with you. I let myself _fall_ in love with you, against my best judgment; I gave you my _heart! _Do you know how special that is?And what do you do? You… you _cheat _on me_? _Like it's no big deal… What is wrong with you?" I was sobbing by the end, so miserable that I nearly collapsed.

"Peyton, I'm sorry." Brandon sounded so utterly broken, so much so, that I almost apologized to him. But I shook my head; I would not feel sorry for him, not after what I'd just seen.

"Sorry doesn't undo what you've done." I told him aloud, and then paused before adding: "You know, even though I could _kill _you for cheating on me and lying to me, that's not the worst part. It's that I _believed _you when you said you loved me. And I believed that I was _finally _enough. That's what really pisses me off. But I'm smarter now—"

"No, don't say that!" Brandon cried, trying to embrace me. "We can work this out, you're different. _I'm _different now, now that I've met _you_."

I backed away, raising my arms. "No you're not. You're _just _the same. And you've proved me right." I was resigned and calm, though my heart was breaking as I spoke the words. "You've proved that I'm _not _good enough for you— that I _am_ just like _every _other girl. And that you're just _too _perfect for me."

"Peyton, baby— you know that's not true. Come on, now. Let's go grab some dinner and I'll tell you what happened."

"Oh no, I don't need any explanations; I've seen enough. And you don't have to take me anywhere... _ever_ again. I'm sorry to have wasted your time." I said, looking away. My heart was lead and I felt as if I was a thousand years old because I was weary and broken.

"You didn't," Brandon tried to say. He sounded like he would start crying.

I turned, ready to leave and let Brandon go back to his cheerleader. They were good for each other— _good enough. _

"Goodbye Brandon, I really did love you." I promised, a tear streaking down my cheek.

"No, it's not over between us! Wait,_ please_," he begged as I turned to leave.

Something sparked inside of me then, and I whipped back around. "I've been waiting—waiting for you to _need _me like I need you. But I can't _keep _waiting, because I don't want to. It's pointless for me to sit around for something I'm never going to have."

"Please," Brandon whimpered. "Just let me _explain._"

"There is _nothing _to say," I insisted.

"You're lying," Brandon said, calling my bluff.

"Maybe..." I whispered. "But you've hurt me, now. And I have to go, to _get _away from you."

"Please, Peyton. Please stay." Brandon was frantic now. He grabbed my hand and I kissed it, squeezing my eyes shut. A tear fell onto his palm and he looked down at it. "I'm sorry," he whispered, just as resigned as I was. This hurt, too. He hadn't tried, nearly at all, to get me to stay. He'd just said _please _about 50 times, but nothing he'd done seemed valuable.

"Me too," I agreed, and I turned and walked back towards the school, fully aware that I was leaving love and life standing with an extended hand— still waiting for me to return.

Someone touched my hand, "Dear... are you alright?" I opened my eyes to look up into the face of an elderly woman. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. But by the way she was dressed, I knew she was a flight attendant and that I was back in the airport. My back hurt from the uncomfortable position I was sleeping in. My head was fogged and I couldn't really think straight. But I shook my head, and used the back of my hand to wipe my face; my cheeks were wet. "No," I said, my voice hoarse. When I sat up straighter, I could see the plane outside my window. "Is the plane boarding yet?"

She smiled down at me, "Yes— you're the only one in here," I looked around to see that she wasn't lying. "And," she continued. "No one else bothered to wake you up. I didn't want you to miss your flight. Unless..." her voice grew quiet. "Unless you already have, in which case, I'll need to find you a new plane." I handed her my ticket and she smiled, "Nope, you're all set. Hurry now, they're waiting for you." I was thankful that she didn't question me further— merely smiled and waved me on. But I did catch the worried glance she shot me before I walked down the exit ramp. The attendant on the plane was not as kind; he gave me a frown and shuffled me down the aisle.

After everything was set, we were off. The plane ride to an airport in Charlotte was very quick and I had to hurry to catch my layover. But soon enough, I was aboard a different plane heading to Louisville airport, one that was about an hour away from Springfield.

A bag of stale peanuts and a Coke later, I arrived— jet lagged and grouchy— in Kentucky. I gathered my bags quickly and hurried outside to see who was there to pick me up. I smiled at the tall woman wearing overalls and a pair of working boots, with a long gray braid that nearly stretched down her back. Her wrinkled face spread into a smile when she saw me. "Peyton Maye!" She cried, calling me by a name that I hadn't heard in so long. In Kentucky, I was _Peyton Maye, _rather than just _Peyton_. I was odd to see my Grandmama after almost two years. She looked the same as when I left, and I could see my mom in her oval face. Even her hug felt the same as I remembered as she pulled me into one.

"Grandmama!" I greeted, inhaling the scent of her. It was something I had always loved about her; she smelled like sweat, hay and horse. And it was _lovely_. "God, I'm so glad to see you!" I said, squeezing her tighter. There was something about my Grandmama that never failed to calm me. Days earlier, I'd been cheated on by the supposed love of my life, but it suddenly didn't matter. I was just _here, _with her, and I was happy. _Almost, _I told myself. _Almost but not quite. I don't think I'll ever be happy again…_ Sadness overrode my joy for an instant.

Grandmama stepped away from me, holding me at arm's length. "My, how you've_ grown_ child!" Her southern drawl made me laugh. In Raleigh, nearly everyone spoke proper English. Hearing my grandmama speak made me feel more at home than I had since I'd moved away two years ago. "What have they been feeding you down there? Magic beans?"

I laughed, "I think that's called Vitamin B, Grandmama."

"Well," she sighed. "Where we're goin', there ain't no things like vitamins. You get _everything _ya' need from th'stuff ya' grow in your own garden. And besides, who needs yucky pills when we gots ourselves lots and lots of fresh produce just waitin' to be eaten?" She ushered me into her old beat up truck, one that threatened to quit any day now. I closed a rusty red door behind me and slipped off my tennis shoes. Grandmama knew me well enough to know that I would live in boots for the summer, so they sat in the seat next to me. I inhaled the smell of leather and burst into a wide smile. She looked at me curiously, and then shook her head. "You're always doin' that, child. Justa' smilin' away at random things."

"No," I disagreed. "Well..." I thought for a second. "Well yeah… maybe. But no, I'm just happy to be _home_." _Home_, I thought excitedly as Grandmama pulled away. _I'm going home._

Grandmama laughed, "Child, we are _glad _to have ya' back. It surely has been _too _long."

"_We?" _I asked, "Grandmama, are you dating someone?" The shock was not easily masked on my face. My grandfather— _Papaw_, as they'd all called him— had died before I was born. Grandmama had managed _just _fine on her own since then, and I couldn't begin to imagine her spending time with anyone other than her family and horses.

"Have ya' lost all your senses?" she asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. Her voice grew thoughtful, "I do believe that ya' left _more_ than just me when ya' moved."

My head bowed, "Are you talking about _him?_" I didn't dare say the name I'd tried _so hard _to forget.

"Dawlin', Andrew never stopped missin' ya'."

I shook my head, "First Grandmama— it's _Andy_. He hated Andrew, and besides," I added. "Andrew Blake Cuttsinger just _sounds_ funny."

Grandmama gave me a look that said _you're stalling._ "Second?" she asked.

"And second, _we _happened a long time ago. We were _kids_, Grandmama. We didn't know any better. And things have _changed_," I said. _Or so I thought_, I added to myself. Andy Cuttsinger was a boy that I'd dated two years ago. He was my childhood sweetheart, so to speak. We'd been in love… and I'd left him. Things were _over _between us, and I clung to that fact as though it were my life support.

"Your mama told me, y'know. I know that _what's his name _did ya' wrong, child. You don't have t'pretend like it didn't happen."

"Brandon," I said. "His _name_ was Brandon Taylor."

_"Brandon,_" she sneered. "Well, ya' got anotha' boy waitin' for ya' out home."

"I doubt if he's _waiting_ for me," I said quietly.

"You'd be surprised," she replied, matching my volume.

We continued to chat about useless stuff— never mentioning any sort of romance. But I couldn't get Andy out of my mind, and soon enough, the past caught up with me for the second time that day. Only this time, I was sucked back two years rather than just a week.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Two years earlier...**_

Andy and I sat together in the back field on the blanket that we'd shared for what seemed like _forever_. It was my last night before I left for Raleigh, the town which would be my home from now on. My mom, a low key actress who never really made it, was working part time at a diner down the street. Some theatre troupe manager had come sweeping into her life one day over a plate of blueberry cobbler. Next thing I knew, my mom was dancing around the house, elating how she was going to be an actress again. I could still see her excitement as she told me. I was so happy for her; she was finally going to see her dreams come true. But for me, the news was devastating.

It meant that I'd have to leave Springfield, the place I'd grown up. I'd have to leave the country for the big city; I'd have to trade horses and big open skies for crowded buildings and modern suburbia. The most tragic thing I was leaving was Andy, the boy I'd been best friends with since I could walk and who I'd loved since I could remember. We were finally both on the same page— _romantically_— and now, I had to pack up and move. It just wasn't fair. But my mom said there was no other option. It was either that or survive off of the farm forever, which my dad had abandoned when I was eight, and the minimum wage she pulled in from the diner. She understood why I wanted to stay and had given me the chance to live with my grandmama, saying that she'd come visit me in the summer. And while the option was perfect, there was a reason that I politely declined.

The reason, which I'd kept to myself, was something that _deep _down I knew no one would understand. I _wanted _to get away, to move away from all that I'd grown up with. I _needed _change— part of me wanted to be… _urban._ Now, I was a little country girl who talked with a sweet southern drawl. But I wanted to wear fancy clothes and live in a manicured house with a tiny little lawn. I wanted to be _different. _Of course, I couldn't tell anyone, especially not _Andy_, about my motives. And so I simply claimed that I could never abandon my mom like that— it just wouldn't be right…

I sighed and looked up into the stars I'd been raised under, picking out constellations that my dad had taught me before he left. Andy's tanned arms were wrapped around my waist, and I could feel his muscled chest beneath me. I smiled up at him, but he didn't return it. "Are ya' okay?" I asked, touching his face.

He twisted his head to kiss my hand, but said nothing.

"_Andy_," I whispered, sitting up out of his arms. The look he gave me, before his blue eyed gaze averted mine, explained everything. "It'll just be _one_ year," I said, but the words were hollow. _It's goin' to be longa' than that, Peyton Maye, _I sighed to myself_._ But my promise had to sound convincing; I wasn't going to ruin my last night with Andy. I couldn't do that to him. "I'll be back before _no _time has passed. I _promise_, Andy."

Still, he said nothing.

I stared into Andy's face, willing _him _to say something and _myself_ not to cry. He met my own eyes and whispered, "Please, Peyton Maye— I'm beggin' ya. _Stay_! Your grandmama said it was alright for ya' t'live with her." He sounded like he was on the verge of tears himself.

Shaking my head, I replied, "I know, but I _can't_. Ya' know my mama; she can't survive on her own. She _needs _me."

"Is that it?" Now, Andy sounded mad. "Your mama has always done just fine— 'specially since your daddy walked out on ya'll."

"_Don't_," I hissed, before he could continue. "Don't ya' _dare _bring that up." Andy knew very well that the subject of my dad was off limits. I never replayed the scene of him patting me on the head when I was eight and kissing my mama's crying face before climbing into the back of a taxi and driving away. I hadn't seen him since, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. Of all people, Andy understood that it bothered me and, gratefully, he never spoke of it.

"I'm sorry," he said coldly, not sounding apologetic at all. "But I think that ya' _wanna' _leave. Ya' used t'talk about city lights like they were _gold_." He was right. I dreamed of being _fancy_ like the movies on the television. I wasn't completely naïve, and I had nice clothes. But I wanted _more_. However, I knew that Andy would probably _leave _if I agreed with him.

"_I was ten!" _I cried, shifting further away from Andy. "You think I wanna' leave _ya'_? Leave _us_? I love ya', Andy— I _wanna'_ stay, but I can't."

"Then live with your grandmama!" He shot back into my face. "I want ya' here! I want _you_ with _me _right _here!_"

"I can't!" I denied. "My mama—"

"That's bull!" he said, "And ya' know it."

It occurred to me, that despite my best effort, that I was fighting with Andy on my last night here. I tried to put some calm into my voice and said softly, "Andy, can we just enjoy tonight togetha'? Nothin' can change what's happened, I'm _movin'_. Let's just be togetha' right now, forget about all o'that." He scrubbed his face with his hands, running them through his golden hair. Andy had flaxen hair, which always gleamed in the light. It accompanied his perfect blue eyes, and nearly took my breath away every time I saw him.

Looking into his blue eyes, I didn't give him a chance to answer; I lunged forward against his chest, pushing him back onto the blanket. My mouth found his and I was kissing him. My own hair fell down like a screen on the side of our faces. His hands moved down my ribs and finally nestled on my hips, and Andy kissed me back.

Even now, after I'd kissed him hundreds of times, it was always an exhilarating experience; it seemed just like the first time. _First— _what an extraordinary word. Andy was my first _everything_, I thought in satisfaction, and then in despair. He was my first kiss— when we were five, out behind the barn. He was my _real _kiss— when we were twelve and didn't know what it meant. We'd both ended up looking like a dog had slobbered on us. Now, he was my first love and he was going to be my first heartbreak.

Tears threatened to ruin this kiss, but they evaporated when Andy rolled us over so that he was on top of me.

My heart beat quickened; _this was a first. _Suddenly, I felt Andy's hands move again; they travelled up my arms, and he clasped my wrists in his hands, bringing them above my head. For a moment, I was confused. But he continued kissing me, never missing a beat. I squirmed beneath him, wallowing in the feeling of ecstasy that I'd come to need like a drug. But, this was something he'd never done before, and surprisingly, it wasn't _bad_. When he shifted my wrists into one hand and used the other to run down the length of my side, the ecstasy evaporated like a mist. His thumb stroked across my belly and I jumped, now understanding fully. I could see what he was doing when the same hand slid around to the back of my jeans and into my back pocket. _Stop! _I commanded in my head and tried to pull my arms free. Andy realized that I had stopped kissing him and released me.

There was no way _this _was going to happen. I unwound my fingers from his hair and pulled my head back to look at him, "What are ya' _doin'_?" I asked his closed eyes.

Slowly he opened them, looking down at me with a _hungry _look. "You're leavin'," he answered simply.

"_So?" _I cried, shoving him off of me. "That doesn't mean we're goin' to..." I couldn't say it.

"I thought—" he replied. "I thought ya' woulda' _wanted _t'do… _that_."

"_No!_" I shrieked, blushing a bright red. "We've never _talked _about it. Or… _anything_" I was embarrassed now. _Why does Andy think that we're goin' t'take it _that _far?_ I cried in my head. Andy's face was searching mine and I continued. "Besides, I'm _way _too young. And all I need is t'get knocked up! How redneck would _that_ make me? In th'city with a baby belly— y_eah_, I would be accepted then."

A pained look flitted across Andy's face and I understood that he hadn't thought of that. I also realized that I'd just slipped up, showing my inner desire to leave. _So stupid! _I yelled at myself. _You're so stupid! He don't need t'be hurt like this… Why would ya' do that t'him, Peyton Maye? _

I thought Andy would rise and walk away, but he pulled himself together and shook his head. "Relax dawlin', I just thought... it was silly of me. Let's just rewind, n'go back to where it was just kissin'."

I was hesitant to kiss him again, but he rolled us both onto our sides and kept it strictly juvenile. We kissed until we were _both _breathless, and then I curled up next to his side, feeling his strong arms pull me against his chest. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" I asked, lifting a hand to touch my lips. There was a strange thing about kissing Andy: I seemed to experience a slight case of amnesia when ever his lips touched mine. In the back of my mind, I knew exactly what he was talking about. But my head felt cloudy and all I wanted was to feel his mouth on mine again.

"For tryin' t'ya'know... do _that _t'ya'." He replied quietly.

It must have surprised him when I laughed, because I felt his grip tighten. "It's okay. Don't get me wrong— it was _nice_." I was very close to shooting myself in the foot. If I led him to believe that I _wanted _to, he might attempt something again, and I didn't want to have to reject him twice in one night. "It's just that... I'm not ready for_ that._" We hadn't said the actual word _once _in this entire conversation, but I was not going to be the first.

"We are… _young_," he agreed. "I guess your right… I just wasn't thinkin'."

"Yeah," I sighed and snuggled closer to him. "Happens t'th'best of us."

"I love ya'," Andy chuckled, whispered against my hair. "Do ya' know that?"

I nodded, smiling. "I love ya', too."

I looked up at him, seeing the boy that I was going to leave the next morning. For a moment, I couldn't picture myself anywhere but here. And then, in the next thought , I was considering staying. _No, _I argued with myself. _I'm leavin'. Everything is decided…_ However sad it may be, I was moving to Raleigh. I just didn't know what that would entail. Andy pulled me out of my thoughts when he kissed my forehead. "I'm goina' t'miss ya' _so _much," he vowed.

"Me too," I whispered, only half convincing. The lies were coming easier now— not to him, but to me. I _had _to do this; I _had _to leave for me. And although it was a lie, it was easier to tell myself that I _wouldn't _miss him. Lying was better, rather than accepting that I would practically _die _without him. Andy was perfect for me; he was who I wanted forever.

With that thought in my head, I drifted off to sleep hearing Andy say, "Nothing will _ever _change how I feel about ya'… I _promise_."

_I promise_, I whispered as sleep closed around me.

_**One year later, the following summer...**_

"Hey Grandmama," I said into the phone. My heart was beating faster than it ever had. I was _so nervous! _

"Child! How are ya'? What time should I be expectin' you this summer? When are ya' leavin'?" Her voice was thrilled.

_My _voice was quiet, "Actually... there's something I have to tell you." It was odd to speak without an accent. My southern drawl had dropped off after about four months of living in Raleigh.

_Raleigh, my dearest Raleigh_, I sighed contentedly. My new home was fabulous, and suburbia was _better _than I'd assumed. While I missed horses and big open skies, I loved my new high school and friends. People here were so much different than in Springfield. No one spoke of _hunting_ or _fishing_, but _shopping _and _partying_. It was great, _really _great. There was no _way _I was going to leave here. However, _that _news was something I still had to break to my Grandmama.

I could hear my grandmama shuffle as she moved to sit in a chair, something she only did when she needed t'concentrate. She took a deep breath before asking, "What's th'matter?"

I chuckled, amidst my sudden anxiety, at her seriousness, "Nothing Grandmama!" I was trying to sound happy and cheerful, but I really wanted to cry. _She's going to hate me! _I thought in despair. _She's going to disown me! _But I continued, "It's just... I don't think I'm coming in this summer."

She inhaled sharply. _Here we go…_ I thought to myself.

Grandmama sounded angry, her tone was crisp and staccato. "Peyton Maye! What do ya' mean _you're _not comin' in? You always spend th'summer here!"

"I _know_, Grandmama—" I attempted to sound small. "But I have friends _here_, and… and there's a _boy._"

The boy was Brandon Taylor, perfection in every sense of the word. He had been my English partner for the last semester of school and I'd fallen head over heels with him. He was cute and smart and the type of guy I'd always been attracted to. My and Andy's love was on always on the backburner and had slowly begun to fade into a nice little memory. Brandon had a girlfriend, and he was prone to being a fan of the ladies, but I didn't care. I _had _to have Brandon; it was a mission that I wasn't going to sway from. Grandmama would _not _move me from it.

"A _boy?_" she cried, shocked. "Dawlin'… what about _Andy?_ The boy you was'a fallin' all over _last_ summer. Ya' recall him?"

"It's just—" I stammered. I would _love _Andy, but I saw now that my love for him was more… brotherly. He was just a memory, a soft spot in my heart. He would always _be _there, but I didn't want him the way I _wanted _Brandon. I didn't want _anyone _the way I wanted Brandon.

"It's just _nothin'_." I heard Grandmama sigh. _So much for her not being mad, _I said sarcastically. "Fine, ya' don't wanna' come in; I understand. You're a big girl and ya' can make your _own _choices. But with every choice ya' make, you're gonna' have t'deal with th'consequences. So, I'm not tellin' Andy. You're gonna' break th'news t'him."

A shudder ran through me, "_Grandmama!" _I couldn't face Andy, not even over the phone. I'd _kill_ him; I'd break his heart. _He'd hate me! _

_Do you care? _I asked myself seriously. I didn't _want _Andy, I'd established that earlier. So did it really even _matter _how he felt about me.

I shoved the thought back to listen to Grandmama.

"No! Ya' let that poor boy believe _all _year that when ya' came in th'summer... ya'll would pick it right back up. And now you're callin' t'say that ya' ain't comin' in. Ya' may have moved t'th'city, and I dunno' _how _they handle these kinda' things. But I raised you and your mama betta' than this. Ya' _will _call that boy and ya' _will_ him that things've changed. Ya' understand me, child?" Grandmama's authoritative voice was prominent, something she rarely used on me. Somewhere in her anger, I could hear that she was also disappointed in me. I missed Grandmama, a lot. But I still wasn't going to go in.

"Yeah..." I replied solemnly.

"Excuse me?" she said, and her voice rang with disbelief. When Grandmama got mad, she reverted back to her Alabama roots, where everyone called each other _sir _and _ma'am_. I knew what she was waiting for, but I was too prideful to be humble.

"_Yes ma'am_!" I said as sarcastically as I could muster.

"You've changed— and I don't like this side of ya', Peyton Maye." Grandma said, quietly. "Goodbye, child." And she hung up on me.

For a moment, I was furious and debated on redialing her number to give her a piece of my mind. It was _my _life, and I was _allowed _to live it any way that _I _wanted. How _dare _she try to control me! But I couldn't press the button to redial her number and I dropped the phone on the table.

I let my head fall into my hands, shaking with rage and sadness. The phone was still on, and angrily, I clicked it off.

It took me three days to call Andy, and when I did, he picked up on the first ring. "Hey Peyton Maye. Long time, no talk. What day are ya' comin' in. Bill Montgomery is holdin' his annual pig-pickin', and I'm in need of a date for it."

_The pig picking, I forgot! _I thought sadly in my head. Every year, Bill Montgomery would hold one; every year, Andy and I had gone _together _to it. I was going to disappoint him even further. _You don't care, _I reminded myself. _You don't care…_ But I did care; I cared how Andy felt. I didn't want to ruin his summer. I was such an awful person.

"Actually, I'm... I can't go." I said, chickening out.

"What?" Andy laughed. "But we always go, and ya' loved t'see Sandra and Millie and all them friends o'yours."

The girls, my best friends… I missed the girls, too. Sandra, Arlene and Millie were my three best friends. We'd grown up together and there was a group that Andy and I had once been included in— that _I _had once been included in, I corrected. Andy was still a part of the group; I was the only one who'd left.

"It's because I'm not coming in, Andy." My voice was ice and I winced, knowing that he would either explode or hang up on me.

Andy surprised me by chuckling coldly; his voice was wistful but clear, "I told ya' so."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused. He hadn't told me anything other; this was the first time I'd talked to him since I'd left.

"I told ya' that ya' wanted t'leave." My eyes closed and I understood, recalling the conversation we'd had the night before I'd left last summer. He'd known? _Of course, _I replied to my own question. _Andy had known me better than anyone at the time. He saw through my bluff the _entire _night. He knew I wasn't coming back… Oh, Andy. I'm so sorry. _"But Peyton Maye, can I ask ya' why? Why did ya' leave me? I loved ya' more than I loved life."

This was going to be hard, but I knew that I had to be honest. "I had to go," I whispered. "I couldn't take it anymore. And it's not because of _you _that I left; it was for me. And I would come back… it's not just the city life that's keeping me here. I mean, that _is _a part of it."

"Well, then... what else?" His voice trembled.

"Andy, I love you. I will always love you..." Could I do it? Could I hurt him _this _bad? _Say it, _I commanded myself. _Do this for him; let him move on. _"There's someone else." My voice cracked twice. "And I'm _in _love with him now."

The tears came then; I could practically hear my words cut into him. "Found yourself a city boy, huh Peyton Maye? Guess then ya' gotta' stay then, right?" His voice was mean and sarcastic; he was on the offensive now.

I frowned at the hardness in his voice, "Andy... _please_. It's been a year and things have _changed._"

"Maybe for you, Peyton Maye. But for me, they _didn't._" Andy spat. "I _believe _in love, y'know. I actually _think _that it's valuable."

"So do I!" I argued, yelling back at him. Idid _too_believe in _love_. Love, to me, was more important than _anything_.

"Yeah right—" he disagreed.

"I'm sorr-" I tried.

"No! Don't ya' apologize! I shoulda' known; I _knew _ya' were gonna' do this! Funny thing was, I actually thought that ya' woulda' come back this summer and we coulda' picked up." I could practically hear my grandmama's voice reciting those words. "But," Andy continued. "Guess not. Guess things _did _change." He paused. "Bye Peyton Maye." and the line went dead.

I stood there for a moment, trying not to break down on the hardwood floor of my kitchen. I closed my eyes and then screamed, throwing my phone against the wall where it shattered into fragments. My heart, I realized, was still in Springfield. At least, a _part _of it was. But I thought of Brandon, and was comforted. And I swore to myself that I would end up with Brandon Taylor, and Andy Cuttsinger would fade into the memory I'd tried to store him as.

I would always remember the last summer before I'd moved to Raleigh, and I would always cherish it. But I was different now and it was time to move on. I had Brandon... or at least, I _would_.


	3. Chapter 3

Grandmama and I pulled up to her little ranch house about five miles away from the Lincoln Homestead. In all the years that I'd lived in Springfield, I'd never visited the place where Lincoln was born. It was very strange because it was so close, but I'd just never gotten around to it. _Perhaps this summer would be an excellent time,_ I told myself. _But probably not…_ The entire car ride to Grandmama's house had been quiet; she hadn't said much but I assumed it was because she simply did not know what to say to me. This assumption came from the fact that I had _no _idea what to say to her. Talking about Brandon was out of the question for both her and me. I couldn't think about him without crying and she hated the poor boy. _Poor boy_, I scoffed, conjuring up the image of a girl straddling his lap. The image stung and I shoved it away again.

Hopping out of the truck, I stopped and took a moment to look around; I found myself admiring the home that always reminded me of what the word 'family' meant. On the outside, it was just like any other home— brick with black shutters. But on the inside, the decorations had been the same since the seventies. Grandmama used to say that she just never really got around to it, seeing that she had my mom to deal with. According to Grandmama, it would have been pointless to buy new things like tile floors or modern furniture because my mom would have destroyed them before a week's time. So, she'd simply opted to keep it unchanged. And after nearly thirty years of abuse, the linoleum was yellowing and peeling in the corners, the television hardly worked and the color schemes were deep olives and boysenberry, according to Grandmama. But none of those faults could ever tarnish the house's aura of comfort. Every corner of the house resonated with warmth; I'd loved to stay up here on the weekends back when I was a kid. Grandmama had been my best friend and I'd always felt so secure in her house.

I took two steps forward, with a huge smile on my face.

"Ya' goin' in th'house already?" I heard Grandmama call from the other side of the truck as she closed her door. I looked at her skeptically, and she shrugged. "I'd figured that ya'd go see _your _horse, th'one ya' ain't seen for two years. But… that's all up t'_you_, child."

I laughed, and listened as my old horse, Ace, neighing in the barn that was less than 200 yards from the house. The sound cracked open a lid to something that I hadn't acknowledged for years. I suddenly longed to be on horseback, and to be flying through the fields— _free _as a bird. When I'd come down here on the weekends, I spent nearly _all_ my time on horseback. My grandmama used to join me; that was, until she broke her that, she couldn't even look at a horse without her hip giving her a pain. She feared the mighty beasts after the one crazy one had bucked her off; I used to see it in her eyes. But even after _her _accident, I still rode. Riding horses to me had been as easy as breathing, and nearly as important. I never rode with a saddle; it seemed so unnecessary to me. Plus, I liked the feel of a horse below me; its hooves beating against the ground was like my pulse. Ace knew me well enough as his rider that he would never throw me; when he shied from something, I always stayed firmly planted on his back. I trusted him, and he trusted me. _Or…_ I thought mildly. _He _had_ trusted me. I don't even know if he remembers me. Well— no time left to find out. _

"Yeah... let me just change." I said waving my hand over a shirt I'd paid good money for.

Grandmama looked me over once or twice and frowned. "Speakin' of changin'," she muttered to herself, but gestured for me to go on. I reached over into the bed of the truck, grabbed my bags and hauled them into the house. However, as soon as I set them in the room I'd be staying, I realized that nearly _all_of the clothes I'd brought were good clothes. Why hadn't I remembered that I'd be riding horses?

For the first time in a while, I saw how much I'd changed. And it wasn't because Grandmama reminded me at every chance she got, but because I'd forgotten what it was like out here. I'd forgotten necessary things for what I used to covet the most: riding horses.

My grandmama peered into her spare bedroom where I was staring down into my suitcase, horrified. She entered casually and saw over my shoulder what I'd just discovered. "There's a couple o' old tee shirts in that drawer ova' yonder." She explained, striding back out into the kitchen.

I chuckled to myself, "Thanks Grandmama."

Part of me knew that she was still disappointed in the change she witnessed in me. But the more optimistic side of me knew that she was _happy_ to have me here. _Still_, I thought to myself. _She wishes you were her little cowgirl, again._ At that, I shook my head; I wasn't like _that_ anymore. I had integrated in city life, where I looked _down_ on getting dirty and hauling stuff around. _But_, I told myself. _I am _here_, so I need to just make the best of things._Besides, it would keep my mind off of Brandon. And that, anywhere, was a plus.

After changing my clothes and brushing my hair back into another ponytail, I walked out into the June heat. In Kentucky, the heat was less humid because it was further north. But this kind of heat soaked into your skin and made you like you had yellow fever. And no matter _what _you did, you couldn't shake it off of you. The sky over head was clear and the sun was nearly at its center point. It was the hottest time of the day, which meant that it _would _get cooler. I wiped the emerging beads of sweat off of my neck and took a step forward.

It was then that I was nearly knocked down by Grandma's collie, Shelby. The last time I'd seen her, she'd been a small little pup. Now she was massive, nearly as tall as I was when she was on two legs. The weight of her caused me to stagger and I struggled to remain upright. "Hey girl," I said shoving her off of me and bending down on one knee. Shelby managed to cover my entire face with sloppy kisses as I patted her dusty rump. "C'mon, let's go see Ace." I was now a girl on a mission, determined to prove to myself that I could_ still _ride a horse. We made our way to the barn, where inside the shaded building, the heat was less intense. Shelby collapsed in the corner and I walked down the drive, peering into every stall. There, near the back, a magnificent ebony animal chewed on a handful of alfalfa. "Ace..." I sighed in contentment, smiling up at the tall horse. "How ya' been, boy?" He walked over to me and put his nose over the stall door.

He hadn't changed at all. And watching his magnificent muscles glide over his frame took my breath away. He was beautiful, just like I remembered. And he remembered me! I was suddenly choking on tears and I struggled to control my emotions. _There, _I told myself proudly. _You're crying over a horse; you're still country… somewhat, at least. _

I was peering around for his bridle when I heard classical music playing from up in the hay loft. I recognized the piece as Canon in D Major— my own personal favorite. As I stood for a moment, letting the music fill me with a brief sense of peace, I was suddenly very curious as to _why _it was playing. Allowing curiosity to guide me, I clambered over to, and up, a rickety ladder to see just an old CD player and a disassembled saddle. There was _no one_ in sight, and I looked around, now _very_ confused.

"Hello?" I whispered to piles of hay, praying that a boogie man wouldn't jump out and grab me.

"May I ask what in th'devil ya' is'a doin' up there?" a male voice asked from behind me.

I jumped, and lost my balance— falling from the top of the ladder. My scream echoed in the barn. But before I could plummet to my death, two strong arms caught me.

I panted, clutching at my chest and stared up into Andy's face.

He set me down gently, "Ya' been here less than an hour and you're already fallin' off'a stuff." He laughed. I suddenly realized how much I'd missed Andy's deep and throaty chuckle. It was like day and night compared to Brandon's even hiccups of laughter.

_Stop,_ I commanded myself. I would _not _compare the two of them. Andy and I were done— just _history_, now— and Brandon and I were... _what_? That threw me for a second; he wasn't my boyfriend anymore, but I still loved him. It didn't matter at the moment, because another thing of my past was staring at me curiously. _You're supposed to be having a good time_, I reminded myself and forced myself to smile.

Andy stood there, watching me shake my head. "Are ya' alright?" he asked me and I looked up at him, only to glance away again.

I tried not to look at him, but it was impossible to miss Andy standing there— _shirtless_. His chest was muscled and shimmering from a slight sheen of sweat. The blue jeans he wore had a hole, the size of my fist, in the knee and his leather gloves were dirty.

But what made me stare was the look on his face; one that, when we were together, would have made me jump into his arms and kiss him silly. His chiseled face was smiling widely and his blue eyes were glowing. Andy looked _great_.

He hadn't changed, a lot like everything else here. While he did look aged and a bit more filled out, he was the same Andy on the outside. I could pick out his boyish smile and still see the ten year old version of him running down the drive after me.

I had to remind myself to not stare, but Andy saw my effort and laughed. "So you're here," he said nonchalantly, trying to get past the awkward conversation.

"For the summer— yeah." I replied, only to ask, "Why are you playing Pachabel?"

"Who?" Andy said with a questioning look.

"Pachabel… er, the composer of Canon?" he shook his head, still not understanding. "The _song_ you're listening to, Andy. The composer is _Pachabel_."

"Oh... well, uh..." Andy looked, suddenly uncomfortable. "Ya' rememba' when ya' let me listen t'that classical CD o'yours?"

I did; we were sitting up there in that loft, if my memory served me correct. And between kisses I'd let him listen to a favorite CD of mine. The memory made me blush, and I turned away to keep him from seeing it now. Classical music had always been my preference to any other genre. "I do," I answered simply, rubbing the redness out of my cheeks.

"And ya' told me t'listen with my heart, rather than my ears." He explained. _How does he remember all of this? _I begged to know. _I hardly do… how does he? _

"Yes," I said, amazed.

"Well—after ya' left, I was tryin' t'_hold_on t'ya', I guess. But pretty soon, I found that I rather enjoyed th'stuff; so it's kinda' stuck with me ever since."

For a moment, I could only stare at him, taken aback by the flood of memories. I stared around me, realizing that everywhere I looked, I could recall something that he said or I said or a kiss we'd shared.

_Everything _was a reminder of the _old_ Peyton Hale. The biggest reminder was Andy himself; staring at him, now, I could see myself lodged in his arms. I could see our past together stretch out like a movie. Each memory played out now, and there were suddenly twenty different Peyton's and Andy's in the room besides the two of us. As I watched them, they faded, one by one until only the _real_ Andy and I were left. I looked at Andy's face, expecting to see a trace of sorrow, but it was happy to my surprise. I laughed.

We stood there for a moment, just staring at each other. "Ya' look great," he finally said to me.

"So do you," I agreed. And I sighed; conversations with Andy were never supposed to be formal and awkward. I remembered that much from when we were kids. I used to make fun of him when he had nothing to say, and in return, he'd usually punch my arm. I smiled, remembering childhood. And Andy cocked his head sideways, staring curiously at my face. But I shook my head, "It's nothing, really. I'm just remembering the old days."

Andy nodded, "They were nice, weren't they?"

"Yeah," I said and looked around again. Then, dying to change the subject, I posed a different question. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Peyton Maye," Andy said, shocked. Time slowed for an instant as I took in the name he'd just called me. _Peyton Maye_— it was something that no one had called me since I'd left. And although Grandmama said it earlier, it was so much different hearing Andy say it now. But as I overcame the sudden shock, Andy's features sped back to normal speed. "Did ya' really think that your Grandma could take care of this entire farm by herself?" I pursed my lips, upset by the truth in his words. "And seein' that I lived next door— that I always have— she hired me for th' summer. I'm paid twenty bucks a week t'take care of th'horses and keep th'fields clear."

Grandmama hadn't told me that she was now in need of her neighbor's son to come help her out. And it made me a bit uncomfortable, at first, to think about Grandmama getting old. In my eyes, Grandmama would always be agile and graceful; she'd be a woman who I'd admire, rather than attend to. She never complained of ailments or pains when I was younger, and now the time I'd been away felt more like ten years, rather than two. But I was grateful, that of all the people it could be to help her out, Andy was the one chosen. He knew my Grandmama better than anyone else in this town, because as a kid, he'd come over every day to play with me. And then as we fell in love, he came home as my boyfriend when I was here.

"Oh," I replied and turned back to Ace's stall. I didn't want to think about Grandmama's health anymore, and I was still itching to ride.

"Ya' goin' for a ride?" Andy asked me, taking off his gloves. I wanted to frown at his sarcasm, but instead, I shook it off.

Laughing, I replied, "I think, yeah... If I can remember how."

It was meant to be a joke, but I saw Andy frown. "You've changed." He said softly to me.

"So I've been told," I sighed, rolling my eyes. I walked to the bridle that was hanging on the tack room door and slid it onto Ace's head before pausing. Had Ace always been so _tall_? Andy laughed, watching me. "Oh shut up," I told him, shooting him a dark look around Ace's head.

"Yes ma'am." He said, but came into the stall with me, where he walked around behind me. I could feel his half naked body behind me, and his breath on my ear. He grabbed me around the waist, and before I had time to protest, he threw me over Ace's back. "Up ya' go," he laughed. I wiggled and twisted, but eventually managed to sit upright on my horse— _breathless_, of course.

"Situated?" Andy teased, opening the stall door for me and waving me through. I dug my heels into Ace's sides and we took off out of the barn. Ace didn't need to walk, nor did I try to make him. I was comfortable, even though this was the first time I'd been on a horse in a long while. I hadn't forgotten at all how to keep my legs securely wrapped around his body and lean forward to keep my balance. He sprinted the few hundred feet out of the barn to where the side gate that led to the back field. Thankfully, it was open and Ace and I were through it, flying over the ground quicker than lightning could strike. My hair flopped against my back, and I reached back to release it from the hair tie, needing to feel the freedom I'd longed for. The wind threw it behind me and I let my head fall back and a cry of sheer euphoria escape my lips. I felt weightless and happy, and I realized that there was _nothing _better than this.

My happiness was cut short when I suddenly became aware that there was a second pair of hooves other than Ace's hitting the ground. I looked back to see Andy closing in on a pretty bay mare. "C'mon Ace," I egged my horse onward, pushing him into a canter. My competitive instincts took over and I narrowed my eyes, determined to keep a distance between Andy and I.

So Ace and I took off, leaving only a cloud of dust behind us. We were close to the creek that cut though the back of my Grandmama's property and I figured that we'd lost Andy. But when I checked behind me, I nearly fell off my horse. Andy and the bay mare were no more than a foot behind us. He winked at me, and I slowed Ace to a walk. A streak of bay flew past us, and Ace shied. I grabbed his bridle before he could rear up on me and patted his neck, soothing him. Andy trotted back up, sliding off of his horse.

"Hello." I said to Andy, my voice acidic. He was ruining my first ride; a fact which _really _rubbed me the wrong way.

"Hey, looks like ya' know how t'ride after all." He chuckled.

"I never forgot how," I replied, looking down the creek. _Just go away Andy,_ I begged him in my head.

But he didn't. Instead, he waltzed down to the tiny, little strip of trickling water that sounded like an enchanting lullaby, one better than _any_ symphony could orchestrate. My feet hit the ground and I kicked out of my boots, then turned to Ace and slipped his bridle off. Ace sauntered down into the water before collapsing onto his belly. I blinked once and then burst into a roar of laughter.

"So Peyton Maye," Andy began. "How ya' been?" His question was casual, but I knew Andy well enough to know that he was raging with curiosity.

"Good," I merely said, sitting down on a bed of moss. I steeped my toes in the cool water, sighing with bliss. This was the prettiest place on the farm, and I looked around, soaking in the view.

Andy sat cross legged next to me, watching my face. "You've been gone for two whole years and all you've been is _good_?"

"Nothing too exciting has happened," I lied, not looking at Andy. He'd always had an uncanny ability to read my face and I didn't want any of his prying questions while I was enjoying the summer air and the creek.

Andy stood and picked up a tiny stone, flinging it across the surface of the creek. It skipped twice before landing in a pile of ferns. "I heard ya' got a boyfriend down there, is that true?"

I winced, unable to hide my reaction and Andy noticed it. "It's alright, Peyton Maye..." he suddenly soothed, misinterpreting my flinch. "I promise I won't make things awkward this summer. I don't hold it against ya' for leavin' me."

I _knew_ he was lying, but I was grateful for both the fact that he didn't have a clue about Brandon's _escapade_ and that he was trying to be sincere.

"Can I at least know th'fella's name?" Andy pressed.

"Brandon..." I told him, looking up into his face. It was odd to say Brandon's name while looking at Andy. It felt like a time vortex might open up and suck me into it. I assumed that this is what most of the summer would consist of, being caught somewhat in the past and somewhere near the present. "Brandon Robert Taylor, the _third_."

"Fancy, ain't he?" _Oh no… _I thought as Andy continued. "No wonda' ya' like him... if he ain't a city boy, then there _ain't_ none." Andy's southern drawl was always thicker when he was trying to control some emotion, which I guessed to be anger or jealousy.

"He's..." I didn't want to call Brandon _fancy_, but there really was no other word. "He's definitely not cut out for the country life." I replied.

We both sat in silence for a minute or two. "Ya' know they're tearing down your old house?" Andy asked me, changing the subject.

"Yeah, my mom said something about that." I answered. When my mom and I had lived here, we'd lived up the road in an old farm house that my mother had renovated. About a month ago, my mom had received a letter and a check from the government saying that they were using the land we owned to build an extension of the Blue Grass Parkway, a road that ran through Kentucky. I asked my mom why she didn't sell the home when we moved and she'd simply said that she didn't have a need to, it was already paid for, so she had decided to hang onto it in case we'd ever moved back. That plan fell through after I met Brandon and so we'd forgotten about the old house until the letter came. It felt odd to know that my home was going to be torn down, but I also felt relieved. The more I could escape this place, the better.

"We should go see it one last time," Andy said. He'd practically lived there, too when we were younger. Every day, he'd come over and sometimes stayed the night.

"I'd like that," I told him honestly.

"It's a date then..." Andy said, and I looked at him in horror. "I was kiddin'," he told me. "Just kiddin'."

"Oh." I replied. "Andy, you know that... that _we _can't be... _together._" It was awkward saying this out loud to him, but I needed to draw all of my lines _now_, or I would end up in an awful mess later. All I needed was for Andy to get the wrong idea and think that I was back here to rekindle things with him. Because… I was _not._ I just hoped that Andy realized that, too.

He looked, for a long time, into my eyes, and I could read no distinct emotion in his. "All right," he told me, finally releasing my gaze.

"All right," I whispered partially to myself, and then lay back and looked up at the sky. In the distance, a dark cloud was moving in fast. "It's going to rain," I informed Andy.

"Yeah, they've been callin' for it for a while now," he said, watching the cloud with me. "Looks like we should be headed back now right about now."

"I don't think so," I told him. "I just got here, and I've _missed _this place; _I'm_ staying, but you can go back if you want." My eyes slid closed and I took a deep breath, hoping that he would get the hint. What I really wanted now, was to be alone. It was easier to think in solitude rather than in the middle of a forced conversation with Andy. But I wasn't _that _lucky.

"You've missed it?" Andy demanded, disbelief strong in his voice. "Guess just not enough, huh?" _Here it comes,_ I realized, not talking about the rain. I knew that Andy would be like this; I knew that he'd hold a grudge against me for leaving him. And now I saw that this was just the tip of the _giant_ amount of anger he still felt towards me.

But, despite a feeling of regret for what Andy was feeling, my temper flared and I sat up on my elbows, "You know, Andy— believe it or not, _yes. _I _have _missed _this_ place. You, on the other hand, not so much." The last sentence set Andy off and I instantly wished I wouldn't have said it.

"Ya' made _that_ perfectly clear, dawlin'— on the phone last summer. Rememba' that?" Andy retorted.

I jumped to my feet, "Are you _really _going to hold that against me _forever_? Because, I told you that things _would _change! And, hey, _newsflash!_ They _did_! You can't say that I didn't warn you!"

"Warn me?" He asked, his eyes swimming with rage. "Ya' _blindsided _me! Ya' let me believe for a _whole _year that ya' still cared 'bout me! And then ya' call— ya' only had th'courage t'go n'_call_me— t'tell me otha'wise? After all we'd been through togetha'? I didn't know what t'say! I still don't!"

"Oh stop!" I commanded him. "You're stuck in the past, _Andrew!_" Calling him Andrew was a dig, which I was aware of, but at the moment, didn't really care about. I never called him that because he _hated _it. "I _moved _on! I kept moving! Why didn't you?"

"Because I loved ya'! I loved ya' more than _anything!_" Andy shot back.

"_I'm sorry!_" I screamed, throwing my hands in the air. "Are you happy _now_? You should be! Because I'm paying for whatever pain I caused you!"

"How?" Andy demanded, taking a step closer to me. It was starting to sprinkle, but neither of us noticed.

We stood, toe to toe, panting. I took a deep breath, "I lied to you, Andy. I'm not doing good; my relationship with my boyfriend isn't going good— hell, and I don't even know if he _is _my boyfriend anymore."

"What are ya' talkin' about?" Andy asked, shaking his head.

"He cheated on me, Andy. A week ago, in fact." I told him, my lower lip quivering. By now, the rain had picked up and thunder rolled over head. My hair was getting wet and my clothes were soaking through.

Andy straightened, the anger in his eyes evaporating. "My god, Peyton May— I'm sorry."

"I don't need your sympathy," I whispered. The last thing I wanted was for Andy to pity me. He couldn't have an advantage over me, not after the screaming match we'd just had. He only needed one thing to twist me into apologizing, and I wasn't about to cave. I wasn't going to _regret_ moving; I'd be _damned._

"It's not sympathy..." Andy replied, trying to grasp my shoulder. "I don't pity ya', I just feel bad because now ya' know how I felt last summer." _He just got that advantage_, I told myself grimly. For a moment, I was stunned by the acidity he voice held. And then I realized that Andy— like a scorned woman— was out for blood, _my_ blood.

I blinked and my nostrils flared, my anger suddenly returning. "I don't need this. Not now, not _ever!_ You take this wounded little persona you're trying to put up and_ shove _it!" I said, poking my finger into his chest. He took a step backwards, defensive. But I continued to speak without pause. "Because you're no better than me, and I will _not_ stand to be talked down to."

"That's not what I meant," he tried to say.

"That's _exactly_ what you meant," I hissed and turned on my heel, grabbing Ace in the process. Without even bothering to _try _to get up on my horse, I simply tugged his bridle back on and led him, _on foot_, back up to the barn.

As I walked through to rain, I began to cry. Not over Andy's words, or Brandon's betrayal— not really over anything. I just cried out of frustration with my situation. When was Andy going to stop punishing me for leaving him? When was Grandmama going to stop punishing me for changing? When was _I _going to stop punishing myself for even falling in love with Kentucky and with Andy in the first place?

_It'd better be soon_, I thought. _Because I can't take much more of this._


	4. Chapter 4

I'd been in Kentucky for a week now, and things were finally starting to settle in— much to my relief. Grandmama had put me to work the day after I'd arrived. "In order to earn my keep," she said. It was hard work, but I liked doing it all the same. To be honest, the more I worked, the less time I thought about either Brandon or Andy. I had to help take care of the horses, keeping all twenty seven of them watered and groomed. At first, I was nervous about crossing paths with Andy. But Grandmama assured me that he would be scarce around farm, unless he was there to pick up the tractor or wagons. Instead, Andy had been sent off to the hay field. There, he was to rake, bale_ and_ pick up alfalfa that would be stored for the coming winter when the grass was gone. And like Grandmama promised, we saw very little of each other.

After our ride down to the creek, and our fight, I was confident in the fact that we'd changed. Our relationship was altered, and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to drown the ache and hollow this left in me by throwing myself into work. I couldn't place _why_ I felt sad that Andy and I were finally done, and the feeling surprised me. However, I couldn't dwell on it for _too _long or I'd fall behind in my workload.

On this morning, like I'd done for the past few days, I rose early before Grandmama was awake and slipped out the back door with my boots in hand. Outside, the dew was still on the grass and the air wasn't hot. Birds chirped and flew overhead, and horses frolicked and ran about in the fields. The sky was clear and the sun was rising, clouds hanging low on the horizon. It was going to be a beautiful day.

I inhaled and could taste the day, something only possible early in the morning. The chair that I sat in to pull my boots on was damp and I fumbled in my haste to rise, only delaying myself further. When I finally stood, I realized that I had a wet patch on the back of my jeans and I grimaced, making a mental note to _not_ sit down before they dried or I'd have a stain in a very _awkward_place.

I laughed, giddy with the calm I felt. Something about today was very good, and I couldn't put my finger on it quite yet; but I could just _sense_it. That was the odd thing about being in Kentucky; I'd come to develop almost a sixth sense about how my day was going to turn out. I didn't know if it was just my heart being cautious not to get _too _excited, because it'd been hurt so many times, or if it was merely _being _here. Regardless of the cause, the premonitions were nice because— _so far_— they'd only indicated good days.

I let Shelby out of her pin and she nearly knocked me over, jumping and running about my feet. "Relax, girl—" I laughed, squatting down to pat her head. She licked my face and I held her back by her collar. "Come on," I told her, rising. "We've got a lot of work to do today."

In my head, I made a mental checklist of all the things I had to accomplish. There was the fence that needed to be mended in the back field or else the horses would get out… _again_. Some stalls needed to be cleaned, and I figured that I might as well do all of them, just to save time later. A couple of the horses needed new shoes, and I checked the tack room in the barn for a pair of clippers and some shoe nails, relieved to find a new box of them. Other than that, there wasn't really much else; I might even have time to ride later on in the day. I sighed— what to start with?

The four-wheeler that I took to the back field was already strapped down with the necessary supplies to fix a fence, so I decided that I'd accomplish that task first. The fence wasn't broken, much to my relief, and I could picture all that needed to be done in my head as I rode back to the back field.

It'd definitely need a few nails and maybe some wire to hold up the plank, but I wouldn't need any _extra _planks, which was a good thing because I really didn't have any. The wood that Grandmama used on all of her fences was heavy and hard for me to handle by myself anyway, so there was a chance that I wouldn't even be able to _life _a plank.

I cut the engine to the four-wheeler and gazed at the crooked plank, smiling as I thought of the horse that had worked so hard to tear it down. I hopped off and reached into the crate that was strapped down to the front of the four-wheeler and grabbed out a hammer and a handful of nails. With one hand, I managed to hoist up an end of the board and hold it in place with my knee. Then with a mouthful of nails and the hammer held in another hand, I nailed it into place.

It was then, I realized that a few nails wouldn't hold the heavy thing into place, so I walked back to retrieve wire. After securing the plank into place with a foot of wire _and_three more nails, I stepped back— satisfied with my work. To my horror, I scanned the rest of the fence and saw that there were at _least_ five more planks that needed fixing. I sighed, and walked to the closest one.

Soon enough, I was walking to each section of the fence, securing and re-securing planks; the day was growing hotter and I was sweating before no time. The work that I'd thought was _so_ fun earlier now seemed tedious and tiring. The more exhausted I grew, the heavier the planks became. Finally, around the middle of the day, I was too tired to lift another plank. And I was so far away from the four-wheeler that I couldn't see it. I sat down, panting and kicked off my boots, proceeding to roll my pant legs up to my knees and stripping off the flannel shirt I had on. The camisole underneath it was clinging to my body with sweat. My body was hot and sweaty, and I felt utterly _gross._

_I'll just rest for a second_, I thought, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back against the wooden fence.

"Ya' alright, Peyton Maye?" A voice asked above me, and I was suddenly in shade. _Of course,_ the sarcastic voice in my head cried. _Of course _he's _here! _

"Andy?" I asked, shielding my eyes and staring up into his face. My monotone voice was somewhat rude, but I was now realizing how _awful_ I must look. I attempted to pull a hand through my hair, willing it to look presentable.

"It's me, but what in th'devil's name are ya' doin' all the way down here. I saw your four-wheeler back yonder," he said and pointed over his shoulder, "And I got real nervous that maybe a bear had gone and carried ya'off."

"There are no bears in the state of Kentucky, Andy." I told him. "And what are you doing here anyway? You're supposed to be in the hayfield."

He laughed, and squatted down in front of me—now at eye level. "Nope, I finished yesterday. I rewarded myself by sleepin' in this mornin', of course. But I still went by the house to see if your Grandmama needed anything else. And when I got there, she was worried sick because she hadn't seen ya'_ all_ mornin'. She knew ya' were back here, but didn't know _why _it was takin' ya' so long. So of course, me bein' the gentlemen I am—" I snorted. Andy gave me a dirty look and continued, "I hopped on a horse and came t'find ya'. And I see your four-wheeler… but not _you_. Then, I started noticin' that th'fence is lookin' mighty dandy... So I started followin' that, and here we are."

"And _I_ need to finish, so _you_ need to leave," I said, rising and rolling down my pant legs. I grabbed the hammer off of the fence and a nail out of my pocket. It was difficult to juggle both of those while lifting a plank; but suddenly, the plank weighed nothing. I looked to see Andy supporting an end of it and I frowned. "I don't need your help." My tone was curt and cold enough that Andy should have shuddered, even in the heat.

He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, and then glanced down at the plank, "All right."

The plank dropped before I could say anything and landed on my bare foot. "_Ow_!" I screeched, dropping the nail and the hammer. Wincing, I gingerly lifted the plank off of my foot, which now throbbed. Andy handed me the hammer, and I raised it like I was going to chuck it at him. But instead, I demanded, "What was that for?"

"Ya' said ya' didn't need my help," he replied with a shrug. I wanted to _smack_ the grin of his face. How _dare _he!

"And that gives you the right to _drop_a board on my foot?" I cried instead.

Andy laughed, and took the hammer from my hands. He nailed the plank into place with such an ease, that the heavy piece of wood looked like it weighed five pounds. He grabbed my hand, pulling me forward, "C'mon, we're goin' swimmin'."

"_What?_" I said, pulling out of his grip. His random exclamation caught me off guard. _"No!" _I wasn't about to go _anywhere _with him.

"Fine… suit ya'self. I just thought that ya' looked like ya' needed a break. But if ya' want t'be stubborn, I can go on without ya'."

"I can't," I told him. "I have _work_ that I have to finish." _Besides, _I added in my head. _Why would I want to go_swimming _with you? You just dropped a plank on my foot! _Although, I had to admit to myself that swimming sounded really good right now. I was hot and sticky and wanted to take a shower, and so a nice dip in cool water wasn't _that _bad of an idea. However, I wasn't going to give Andy any indication that I would go with him. So I said again, "Yeah… I have stuff to do anyway."

He fidgeted, and then smiled. "I kinda' already did all that for ya'."

That stopped me, "How? And _why?_"

"Guess you're not th'only one who's a good liar," Andy began and I went to negate that statement, but decided against it. Andy, if he was telling the truth, had done me a _really _big favor. He at least deserved to be able to finish a sentence. "I didn't sleep in, ya' know me. I hate t'sleep when there's sun outside. I was surprised when ya'didn't call me on that. I actually got here 'bout two seconds after ya' rode off on th'four-wheeler. I saw ya' leavin', and when I went t'go ask your Grandmama what ya' wasa' headin' off for, she told me 'bout th'fence needin' fixin'. When I asked her why _you_was doin' it, she told me that she'd put ya' t'work. That made me laugh, by th'way. But then, she told me everything else that you had t'do, and I figured I'd be nice and do it all for ya'. I finished it, and then I came to find ya'. And here we are now."

I was stunned by Andy's kindness. I'd spent the entire week thinking that Andy was still harboring a grudge for me, but doing all my work shattered that assumption. There was something weird though about how _smug_ Andy sounded, and so I was cautious again.

"I would say thank you," I began. "But I'm still mad that you dropped a board on my foot."

He laughed, "Well, ya' can thank me by comin' swimmin' with me."

I frowned, but the water sounded _so_ good. "_Why_? You aren't taking me swimming just so you can see me strip, are you?" _Peyton, do you really believe that? _I asked myself in disbelief. _No… _I agreed. _I don't. _Still, where did Andy even find a place to go swimming? Grandmama'a property didn't really have any lakes running through it. There was just the creek and the a small pond nearby. _That's it! _I realized with a gasp. The small pond, located on the very edge of Grandmama's property was the place where Andy and I'd used to go swimming. It was a pretty place, located in the very _middle _of the woods. It was _hot _outside, I had to give him that much. The only problem was that it was so far back in the woods, no one else knew about it. And when Andy and I had been together, that was great. But now, it would be just awkward.

"Don't worry," Andy seemed to read my thoughts. "I won't make ya'uncomfortable, I promise."

I laughed, "All right cowboy, let's go before I change my mind." I realized that I'd just agreed to go _swimming _with my ex-boyfriend, in the _middle _of nowhere. If we'd been in a horror movie, that would've been the perfect scenario to get myself killed. Luckily though, Andy didn't seem blood thirsty anymore, like he had when I'd first arrived. I wondered if he'd gotten over it and accepted, like I had, that we weren't going to be together.

He grabbed my hand again, which I didn't see as necessary, but I didn't protest because it fueled my hopes of being _friends_. He went to get on the four-wheeler and I looked around, "You said you rode out here… on a _horse,_not a four-wheeler? That horse needs to go back up, Andy."

"It's okay, Peyton Maye, that mare's been'a missin' this field since last September. We'll get her later. Now are ya' comin' or not?" I was stalling, it was true. But I wasn't quite ready to climb onto a four-wheeler and let _Andy _whisk me away. For the first time, I felt nervous about being around him. _What if he tries to kiss me? _I asked. Then I remembered that we were _friends._

I sighed, and relaxed, climbing on behind him. A new idea was starting to form in my head, and I pondered it as we rode deep into the forest that lay just beyond the fence.

If I was going to have to be here _all_ summer, why not have a little fun? I'd play along with Andy's game of flirting and joking, which I had no doubt that he'd start up in about five minutes; and besides, I was a _single_woman. That was something I'd realized the previous night. As I was lying in bed, I couldn't help but think about my pending relationship status. With a gasp, I shot up in bed; I'd just had an epiphany: I was _single_. This fact saddened me, but I saw it as my own form of revenge on Brandon. If Brandon was going to _cheat _on me, then I was going to be _single. _

Brandon wasn't here, in fact, he was probably with some girl. And as long as he wasn't _here_ with _me_, I could do what I wanted. And I liked the attention Andy was giving; I wasn't going to lie to myself. It didn't mean that I _wanted _Andy; it just meant that I could acknowledge him as an _attractive _guy who I could flirt with. However, I was wary. If Andy started getting the wrong idea, I would put an end to it. And we'd go back to how we were when I arrived— _awkward._ I could play with Andy as much as I wanted, but _if_ it turned serious, I would end it.

Andy and I would be _friends_— just _friends _andnothing _more._ It'd be _great_ summer, too.

I laughed at my new revelation and Andy noticed. He turned his head to look at me, and the four-wheeler cut to the left just a bit. This only made me laugh harder, and Andy called over his shoulder, "What are ya' crackin' up about back there?"

"I just realized that we _can_be friends, Andy! No strings, no fuss— just _friends_. That way we don't have to be all formal with each other." I yelled into his ear because it was hard hear over the roar of the engine.

Andy maneuvered the four-wheeler onto a bed of rocks, and I noticed that we were at the pond. It hadn't taken that long to get here, which was odd because it used to take Andy and I practically _forever _to find this place. He cut the engine, but didn't move. "Friends," he said, not looking at me. I hadn't really considered what Andy might think of my proposition, and I was briefly worried that he'd say he couldn't be _just _friends with me.

I slid off the back and walked around to the front to face him, looking him dead in the eye. "Friends," I repeated, but mine sounded more like a warning. If I told him flat out that nothing was going to come out of it, maybe he wouldn't try for anything.

Andy shrugged, and slid off the four-wheeler and dropping the subject. He walked past me and through a screen of trees. I followed and saw that Andy had already stripped off his shirt, and was working on the belt of his jeans.

For a moment, I was thrown by the beauty of his body. He really did have a _gorgeous_body, and I found myself wishing that we were together so I could cling to his muscled chest. Andy had the _perfect _body; it was even better, I winced to say it, than Brandon's. Everything _inch _of Andy's body was toned; it always had been. But I pushed the thought away and peeled off my jeans. I left my camisole on, and strode past him out into the pond, walking slowly. My gait was slow for a reason; I wanted, selfishly, to feel Andy's gaze follow my body. I was being _bad _today, I was well aware of that fact and suddenly ashamed. If I didn't want to string Andy along, I shouldn't toy with him. So, I quickened my steps, and plunged deep into the water.

It was murky and kind of gross, but still it, just as I thought, felt _amazing_to my tired body. I swam and kicked and played, reveling in the slippery coolness of the water against my skin. Andy laughed, standing on the bank and I froze. "You getting in?" I called to him. I didn't want him to just _stand _there, watching me.

He took two strides and leaped; landing with a splash. Before he resurfaced, I felt him grab my ankle and then my calf as he worked his way up my leg. I kicked out at him and he let go. When he did come up, I pushed a wall of pond water into his face. "Andy," I said.

But he cut me off, "Relax, Peyton Maye. Ya' really gotta' lighten up."

I sighed, frustrated. _Only friends_, I thought to myself and I swam backwards and down beneath the water. Below the surface, I could conceal the blush that had spread across my cheeks. Feeling Andy's hand on my calf sent a jolt of electricity through me. He couldn't touch me again, I realized, or I'd end up in a very _precarious _situation, one that could potentially involve me crossing the boundary _I'd_ set. _You're just going to have to be _very_ careful, Peyton._ I warned myself. _You stay in your side of the pond, and he'll stay in his. _I hoped that he would, at least.

As the afternoon wore on, Andy and I spent time laughing and joking lightly. It was like old times, and it was great. In no time, we were both prunes from the water and the sun was starting to dip on the horizon.

"Come on," I said, swimming over to the shore. "I'm starving."

Andy paused as he got out of the water, "Y'know that Bill Montgomery's holdin' his pig pickin' this Saturday." Déjà vu washed through me; the last time he'd said Bill Montgomery in a sentence, it'd ended badly. I climbed out of the water and shook my hair out. My blonde curls were now brown from absorbing water and I tried to wring them out as best I could. I stood there, with my jeans in one hand and my boots in the other and just stared at Andy.

When he didn't continue, I laughed, "And?"

"And," Andy explained. "I think we should go."

Another chuckle escaped between my lips. _He was kidding, right? _"Why? They all think that I'm some city slicker now. I've been ostracized, Andy." I couldn't face my old friends, they'd laugh at me!

"_Ostrich_-what?" he asked.

"_Ostra_cized, like... kicked out." I sighed because he didn't understand. "It's not important... What _is_ important is the fact that I'm not _their_Peyton anymore. They don't want me there."

Andy took a step back, "Peyton Maye, ya' may have moved and are now usin' fancy words; but you're still as much a part of this ol' town as ya' was when ya' left. Even _you_know that." I shook my head, although his words did comfort me. In the back of my mind, I'd always worried what my old friends thought of me leaving. Did they even care? Hearing Andy say that I was still a part of this place was nice. _Nice or not, Peyton— you can't go to that, _I told myself.

But after we'd had such a great afternoon, I really didn't want to argue. Andy took my silence as defeat and grinned, "So we'll go at… say 6 o'clock?"

"Andy," I sighed. "I don't think it's a good ide—"

"Well tough turkey... you're goin'. Besides, your grandmama is'a goin'. And ya' know plum well that she ain't gonna' leave ya' at home by yourself."

He had a point there. Grandmama didn't believe in anyone under the age of _thirty_staying home by themselves. She thought it was _too_dangerous, something I hated about being here. When I was younger, Grandmama dragged me _everywhere _she went. But I was sixteen now, surely she'd see things in a different light. _No… probably not. _I sighed, resigned. "Fine... I'll go, but when they start throwing pork at me, I'm leaving."

"Deal," Andy agreed. "Now, c'mon. I can practically hear them biscuits your grandmama makes callin' my name." My grandmama made the best biscuits in the county, and everyone knew it. Just thinking about it made my stomach growl.

Andy looked down at his own belly and rubbed a reassuring hand over it. I met his gaze and we laughed, climbing back onto the four-wheeler. Even as we drove back, happily, something was brewing deep within me.

I couldn't help it, but the sense of _dread_for the upcoming weekend was eating me alive. I knew that they'd hate me; I knew that they'd probably kick me out. All week, I'd heard Grandmama on the phone telling people that I was back. And so_I_knew that _they_ knew that _I_ was here. And now, I was sitting like a duck on a log, just waiting for them to come along and shoot me. Andy, I was sure, sensed that I was uncomfortable with the idea of seeing all my old friends and their families. At dinner, he put a reassuring hand on mine underneath the table.

Still, I was uneasy. That night, after Andy had gone home, I sauntered into to my bedroom warily. I closed the door behind me, and stared around the room that hadn't changed since the day I left. As I sank to the floor, all I could here were their sneers and whispers. And that night, I barely slept a wink. I woke, sweaty and anxious, and sat up. As I stared into the black, one thought kept running through my head.

I was prey to them, and I was practically _walking_ into their trap. _What in the hell was wrong with me?_


	5. Chapter 5

By that weekend, I was a nervous wreck. I'd spent the entire week concocting stories in my head about my, soon to be, shunning from the people I'd once called friends. Yes, part of me was excited to see them and to see how two years had aged them from the adolescents I remembered into the full-blown, hormonal teenagers they were now. But there was a greater part of me was pretty sure it wouldn't be pretty.

It was what they would _say_ that sent chills running down my back. _Are they going to sneer at me? _I thought over and over again. _Will one of them point a finger at me and say, "Oh look— it's the _city _girl. Ain't she purty; that stupid city-slicker?" _In my mind, where the idea had been brewing all week, I was positive that I just wouldn't be accepted anymore.

My nervousness had one_ main_ root; there was a central and pivotal reason as to _why _I was freaking out so badly. For all the years my friends and I'd known each other, I was _Peyton Maye_. I was a country girl who rode horses and cleaned stalls; I wore cowboy boots and couldn't differentiate between Fendi and Prada if my life depended on it. On the weekends, I could be found in my grandmama's field, lying out in the grass with a handful of daisies; I'd be perfectly content under a summer sun. There was another thing, too: Andy and I were together. For as long as I'd known my friends, they'd associated me with Andy. It was like we were a package deal; and now that they'd only be getting half of that deal, I wondered if they'd want their money back. Then, to my friends, I was_ normal_— an ally of sorts, who understood the small little world we lived in. In fact, we spent most of our time together talking about how much we _hated_ people like who I was _today. Peyton Maye_, to them, was who I was supposed to be.

And now, I was Peyton— _just _Peyton. I was the opposite of Peyton Maye. Dirt wasn't my friend anymore, it was my enemy. The closest thing to a horse that I rode was a bike. And while, I had been back for two weeks was rediscovering my old country roots, I was still _Peyton_. Because, even being back, I still cringed at dirt and away from distinct _odors_. Everyone at that party was expecting me to be Peyton Maye and I just _wasn't_ anymore. And I didn't know what that was going to mean on Saturday.

So I spent the remainder of the week, after stupidly agreeing to go to the party, in a frazzled state. Grandmama didn't seem to understand what the problem was and tried to make me more cheerful. "You'll be fine…" she soothed.

"Grandmama, _don't make me go,_" I pleaded. "Please… they _hate _me."

"I'm not makin' ya' go, child," Grandmama laughed. "You can stay home all ya' like. But I know that ya' won't— I _know _you. You ain't gonna' sit 'round here and do nothin' tonight; 'specially afta' ya' promised Andy that ya'd go. You ain't gonna' do that t' th'boy. You'll end up goin', ya' just wait 'n see."

She was right, and she knew it. With a satisfied smirk, she turned back to the gravy she had boiling on the stove top. I sighed, mad, for once, that I wasn't a mean person. I'd always been loyal to a promise; if someone asked me to do something, and I agreed, I _always _stuck it out. And I now felt _obligated _to go to this party because I'd told Andy I would. _Why Peyton? Why? _I shouted in my head, throwing my head into my hands. I was stressing out now; there were only five hours until this party. _Oh dear…_ I thought.

When Andy showed up to do some work around the barn, I tried to avoid him to keep him from seeing me _this _stressed.

But I couldn't hide from Andy. Once he found me, pretending to read on the back porch, he knew instantly. "What's wrong?" He demanded, cocking an eyebrow. _Andy knows me __too__ well— two year separation or not_, I thought, angrily, to myself. He could probably tell from the dark circles under my eyes that I wasn't sleeping, so he sat down next to me and rubbed a comforting circle on my back, "It's gonna' be alright, Peyton Maye. I'll be there— your grandmama will be there. If someone starts'a messin' with ya', we'll take care of it. You gotta' trust me."

I nodded, knowing that whatever Andy said, he _meant_. I knew that I could count on Andy to defend me if needed. But I was dreading it coming down to that. He nudged me out of my chair and towards the barn, sensing that I needed to occupy my hands with farm work. We spent the afternoon together, polishing saddles and washing off the old tractor that Grandma had owned since the sixties. I ended up hosed down and covered in hay, feeling gross. With a smile, Andy recommended that I shouldn't change because it was a _good look _for me. He quickly retracted the statement when I shot a death stare his way.

Andy left around dinner time to go get ready and I trudged back to the house, unease sitting like a stone in my stomach. Inside, I cracked the lid to my suitcase and peered at all the clothes I'd brought. I needed something that wouldn't give away the changes in me_ immediately_. I needed something that just screamed _Peyton _Maye. But all I had were _Peyton _clothes. There was _nothing _that wasn't _too_ fancy or _too _urban, and I slammed my suitcase closed in frustration.

A soft knock on the door made me jump. I turned to see Grandmama standing in the doorway with a dress in her hand. It was a pretty, little sundress— white with delicate flowers stitched into the hem. "Grandmama, it's so pretty," I complimented her. "You might find you a husband tonight."

She snorted, and eyed it. "It was your mama's back when she was 'bout your age, I suppose. Whoeva' it belonged it, I ain't wearin' it— ya' are. Trust me child, if I could fit into it, ya' wouldn't even know it _existed._" She sighed, "I saw it this afternoon and I just thought, '_My_, how sweet Peyton Maye would look'. So here." Grandmama hoisted the dress out towards me.

I took it with tentative fingers, running my hand along the fabric. "Thank you," I told her.

"You're welcome, child. But, hurry now! Or we're gonna' be late." She called over her shoulder as she walked back towards her room. I stood and slipped the dress of the hanger and held it up to my body, admiring it even more. In the past two weeks, I'd grown tan— much to my delight, and the white dress, with its string-thin straps displayed my darkened shoulders remarkably. I had to admit— it looked _good_.

Fifteen minutes later, I was ready to go. It had to have been the quickest I'd gotten ready in a _long _time and I whirled around in my new dress, admiring how it flowed out around my knees. Grandmama laughed when she saw me and motioned for me to come on. "We've gotta' pick up Andy, still." I was careful to avoid Shelby outside as we walked to Grandmama's truck, so that her muddy paws wouldn't ruin my outfit.

Grandmama and I pulled up to Andy's house and I waved at Andy, who stood outside. He looked clean and refreshed in his favorite, old tee shirt and a pair of shorts. I hopped out of the truck and smiled at his mom who stood in the door way. "Hey Mrs. Cuttsinger!"

"Hello dawlin', ya' make sure Andy don't get into no trouble now, ya' hear? I need my boy back in _one _piece!"

"Yes ma'am!" I said, laughing. "How have you been?"

She smiled, but it wasn't happy. Staring off into the slow-sinking sun, I saw Mrs. Cuttsinger wipe something from her eye— a tear, maybe? But a moment later, she looked at me and said softly, "I'm just glad t'see ya' afta' _so _long. Lot's changed since ya' been away. It's nice t'have ya' back. Stop by and'a see me sometime; we gotta' catch up."

"I'll do that," I promised, still confused by her sudden sadness. And then, Andy appeared in the door way. He stood on his front porch, staring at me. When I waved, he blinked but didn't move. I walked up to him, and waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello? Is Andy in there?" With a soft chuckle, Mrs. Cuttsinger eased back into the house, leaving Andy and I standing alone. I checked over my shoulder to see Grandmama fiddling with some button on her dash and then turned back to Andy.

He looked at me and smiled, "Hey! Sorry 'bout that; daydreamin' I guess. can't get ova' how... _incredible_ ya' look."

I blushed and stammered something like, "_Stop_." But it was hard to understand over the sudden horn that blared behind us.

Grandmama, who had now apparently fixed the button she was messing with, rolled down the passenger side window and leaned over, "Are ya' two comin' or am I goin' alone?"

I looked back at Andy and he winked at me. There was something about the way he looked tonight, dressed so handsome, or maybe it was that I was so nervous it made me delusional. But I could have sworn that it was two years prior and I was as in love with him as _ever_. Brandon didn't exist; Raleigh was just another city that we learned about in school; and I was _Peyton Maye_. It was that_ something_ that had me reaching for Andy's hand as we walked back to Grandma's car. Andy didn't say anything as I slid my hand into his, merely looked at me and grinned.

I could read Andy's surprise in his eyes, and I stopped walking for a brief moment. "I'm glad I'm here… with _you_." I whispered.

Andy merely squeezed my hand tighter and pulled me forward.

Grandmama rolled her eyes, "Alright, alright. C'mon now! Betty Lou is bringin' her famous pasta salad and if we're not there soon- ol' Earl McDermont will have it eaten all up."

Andy and I laughed in unison as we pulled back onto the road. Bill Montgomery's place was a little farm, about ten acres of nothing but pigs. He loved his prize-winning porkers more than he loved his wife, Tanya. Of course, she spent most of _her_ time with the veterinarian from Willisburg, a tiny town down the road. So in the end, it worked out for both of them.

But every year, Bill would throw a pig picking; everyone knew that the pig was brought in from the supermarket, though. Bill's precious pigs would never be sacrificed for the rest of the town's bellies. The entire local community would come down and there'd be dancing and old Buella Faye would start singing eventually. It was a regular down-home gathering, and in all the year's past, it'd been _very _enjoyable.

We pulled up about the time that everyone else was starting to arrive. The pig had just been thrown on the cooking pit, and a couple of the older men were tuning their instruments for later. Grandmama hopped out of the cab and said to us, "Now— ya'll don't need supervision no more. I ain' gonna' make ya'll stay with me like I used to. _But_, I want no fightin' between the two of ya'... or," she looked down at our hands that were still clasped together. "Or _anything_ else. Enjoy yourselves and behave. I'll find ya' when it's time t'go home. Andy, did your mama have a time when she needed ya' back?"

Andy thought for a moment, "I don't think so."

"Alright then," Grandmama said and clapped her hands together. "Now, if ya'll excuse me, I see Earl already buzzin' around that pasta salad. _Earl!_" She called to a balding man wearing a bowler tie that was most likely from the fifties. "_Earl, ya' stay away from that pasta salad, ya' hear?" _Grandmama strode into a crowd of people and Andy and I were left still sitting in the truck, chuckling at my Grandmama's angry fist-shaking.

I looked at him, "Well... where to first?"

He smiled at me, "I see Millie and Arlene- ya' wanna' go say hi t'them?"

My breath caught and I stiffened. "Do I have the option of saying no?" I asked Andy. My nervousness had suddenly fluttered back up into my throat and I was suddenly wished I'd stayed home. Anxiously, I smoothed my dress with my free hand and tried to calm my racing heart.

Andy laughed, "Not a chance. C'mon." He opened the door and slid out. I didn't move. Andy turned back to me, and reached for my hand that he'd dropped, "I said I'd protect ya', Peyton Maye." His voice was fierce and his eyes blazed with intensity. "C'mon, I _swear_ you'll be fine. They're excited t'see ya'."

Tentatively, I grabbed his hand and let him pull me out of the truck. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and we strode off towards a pair of nearly identical blondes. They caught sight of Andy first and waved, then they noticed me and I saw both pairs of eyes bug wide. For a second they stared at me and I shrank into Andy, but after a moment, the taller of the two girls screamed, "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit! Is that you Peyton Maye?"

"Hi Arlene," I waved. Arlene Yates took a huge stride and pulled me into a vice tight hug. Around here, Arlene was known for a couple things: her fiery temper and her quick wit. She'd snap quicker than a twig in a hurricane and wasn't afraid to stand up for herself. She was feisty for her small size; she was shorter than me with stick-straight, ice blonde hair. Her angular features were petite and on certain occasions, she resembled a pixie. But Arlene was also a great friend; she was protective and loyal and never failed to cheer me up. In our group, she was— _still was—_ the mother hen.

When Arlene now pulled away, she looked into my face and smiled. "My, how ya've grown! God, now ya've got me talkin' like my momma'! Ya' look so good! How have ya' been? How's... where ya' livin' now?" I couldn't choose which question to answer.

"Uh… Raleigh," I told her. "It's in North Carolina."

Another blonde, Millie Banks, shoved past Arlene and hugged me as well. Her hug was loose and warm, and her voice was refined and lower pitched, but it was rich and dark and I loved it. Millie, or Milliscent Amelia in full, was tall and muscular. She was a big-time runner in school and had the legs of a deer— very thin, but very strong. Unlike Arlene, Millie's hair was darker and wavier. She was smart and collected and excelled in everything she did; she'd been the child prodigy of all our teachers and I assumed still was. "You do look good; Andy told us you were coming. And we didn't believe him because we thought that you were never coming back." Her laugh was smooth, much like her speech. I listened as she spoke with no hint of an accent and realized that I must have sounded like her. When we were younger, her accent-free speech, due to her father's degree in English literature and extreme resentment of accents, was like a foreign language to me; it'd used to shock me every time she'd open her mouth. Now, it sounded _familiar _against everyone else's voice. "How long are you here for?"

"Until the end of summer, I think..." I replied, relaxing. Andy had eased back and was smiling; when I looked over my shoulder at him, he gave me an _I told you so_ look.

Arlene slipped an arm through my elbow, "Well… now, we got _all _summa' t'catch up."

I nodded, "Where's everyone else?" While I would have been happy with just Millie and Arlene, there were still a few others that we were missing.

"Oh, dawlin'... Tommy's 'round here somewhere— he's with Charlie, I'm sure." Tommy Yates was Arlene's twin, but the only thing they shared was a birthday. Tommy had striking raven hair that he always kept cut short. He was quiet and reserved, but would talk and have a good time with a bit of coaxing. The two twins always laughed at each other and mostly ended up in a huge fight, only to make up when it was time to leave. If Arlene had predicted correct, Tommy was accompanied by Charlie. Charlie Sims was his best friend whose family had moved from Honduras when he was eight. After he met Tommy, the two of them could always be found together. They acted _more_ like twins than Arlene and Tommy. Charlie, too, was quiet. But put the two boys together and there's no telling what they'd come up with. When we were younger, they'd wanted to go into business together and be mad scientists who'd bring back Frankenstein. I wondered, briefly, if they still had that dream.

"And Sandra's coming later on with that boy from Bardstown… I hear that he's in college! Can you believe that?" Millie chimed in. Sandra Turner was the party animal of the group; she dated more guys than I changed socks. She had the looks for it though. Her dark chestnut hair was shoulder-length and always styled differently. She wore fancy clothes that played up every asset she possessed and never failed to wow us. She'd always been the most popular girl at school, and I was sure that she hadn't given that title up yet.

It was amazing at how _wrong_ I'd been. My friends acted as though I'd never even left and I could have _danced_ because I was so happy. Arlene looked over my shoulder and smiled, "Here they are!" I turned to see Charlie and Tommy walking up carrying trays of food.

Tommy stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of me, "Peyton Maye?"

I waved, "Hey Tommy. Hey Charlie."

Charlie smiled but said nothing because his mouth full. He strode past me to where Millie now sat and set the food down on her lap. She looked up at him and grinned, pulling him down so she could kiss his cheek. Tommy caught me staring, and laughed. "They've been datin' fer' almost a year now. It's still so weird to see them togetha'."

"I'll say," I agreed. Arlene laughed and Tommy rolled his eyes, but I smiled as I watched Charlie and Millie laugh and enjoy their own little corner of the heaven. The fact that they were together now blew me away. Never, in all the years of knowing them, had I ever _pictured _them together. It was so strange to see them now in each other's arms and I tried not to stare. They were oblivious to the rest of us and it seemed oddly familiar. Thinking of Andy, I turned to see if he was watching the happy couple. But Andy wasn't in sight; I could have sworn that he'd been standing right next to me. And I hadn't heard him leave— I was sure. "Hey guys, have you seen Andy?"

Arlene and Tommy looked around, but Arlene was the first to answer. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere." There was something about her response that had me staring at her curiously. She seemed _happy _that he was gone, and I realized that she hadn't looked very hard. _Why wouldn't she want him here? _I thought, and eyed Arlene curiously. But she merely smiled at me.

A huge man with a white apron on and a matching cowboy hat suddenly banged on the inside of a pot with the spatula he was holding. The entire crowd turned to see Bill Montgomery step up on a crate so that he was a head taller than all the rest of us. "Howdy ya'll. How ya'll doin' tonight?" He paused for the flood of responses, but quickly silenced everyone again before continuing. "Now, this here porker is'a almost done, so we're gonna' go ahead and get th'party livened up a little. Jessie—" Bill called to the local fire chief, Jessie Carney. "Why don't ya' go on and get t'corn hole a'goin' and then we'll start up some music, as well."

Jessie nodded and strode off with a group of the local farmers, all well into their sixties. Bill turned his attention back to us, "We'll be eatin' in 'bout 20 er' so minutes. So why don't ya'll make yer'selves' comfortable and we'll get us a party goin'!" Bill stepped off his crate and a roar of cheers and hollers erupted through the crowd. I turned back to Tommy, Arlene, Millie and Charlie and smiled.

Arlene looked at me, and then shot a look that I nearly missed at Millie. "Well boys—why don't you go play a game _or two_ of corn hole?"

Charlie shook his head, "I'm good. What about ya', Tommy?"

Tommy was in the process of shoving a biscuit into his mouth, but he shook his head no. Arlene stamped her foot, "No boys— I _really _think ya'll _should_."

I frowned, but said nothing. Tommy rolled his eyes and thrust his plate of food at Arlene, indicating for her to hold it. Then he grabbed Charlie's elbow, pulling him up to stand. Millie stood as well and kissed Charlie. "Be good," she told the two boys as they began to weave through the crowd of people.

"What was that all about?" I asked Millie.

"We just haven't seen you in _forever _and we wanted a little... _girl_ time. You know, to gossip and catch up." She replied.

"Speakin' of gossipin'— here comes _Ms. I'm Datin' a College Boy_." Arlene noted, pointing to a very tall, very skinny brunette coming our way. She was dragging an even taller, even _skinnier_ boy behind her.

"Hey girls!" She called to us.

"Sandra!" I said, standing.

Sandra nearly tripped when she saw me, but shrieked, "Peyton Maye!"

Her date turned to see who she was talking about, and I gave him a small smile. Sandra let go of his hand to hug me, "God, it's good t'see ya'!" She was still half yelling.

"You too," I told her, patting her back.

"We were just about to...how do you say..._ fill her in_," Millie said, looking meaningfully at Sandra.

"Oh, oh... _okay_. Ron—" Sandra looked back at her date. "Er, baby, why don't ya' go find Charlie and Tommy."

Ron looked at us for a moment, then shrugged. "Whatever." His voice was slow and monotone; he seemed _so _excited to be here. I giggled as I watched him slink off in another direction.

Sandra sat down and the three girls all huddled around me. "Guys... what is going on?" I asked them seriously.

"Nothing!" Millie laughed.

"Mhm," I said, crossing my arms. "Come on guys, why did you send everyone away?"

"No, we ain't talkin' bout us right now. Tell us 'bout Raleigh!" Arlene interjected.

I sighed, "If I tell you about Raleigh, will you all stop acting so weird?" They nodded. "Alright well... it's a lot like here, minus the country accents and add a really tall building or two."

Sandra shook her head, "No duh… _anyone _coulda' guessed that. Even stupid _Ron_— ugh, it's time to dump 'em, gals. But…" she refocused. "We _mean_, tell us 'bout this boyfriend o'yours?"

For a moment, it shocked me that they knew I _had_ a boyfriend. But I realized that Andy would have told them. "I don't know..." I said nervously. That was one thing I didn't _want_ to tell them: that my boyfriend, who I'd been _so _incredibly crazy about, had cheated on me. Thinking of Brandon sent a tremor of sadness running through me. I hadn't heard from him in two weeks, and it was oddly... _quiet._ I had been _so_ used to hearing from him every day. _I guess it really is over_, I thought to myself.

_Stop, _I commanded. I couldn't think about him now, not with three of my old best friend sitting in front of me. I looked at each of them and smiled, wishing that they'd been with me over the past two years.

Arlene, Millie and Sandra all sat watching me, waiting for me to continue. "His name was Brandon Taylor, the third. He was tall." I was giving very little, but the flood gates were very close to busting _wide _open. _I'm either going to start crying or screaming— _I thought to myself.

"_Tall?_" Millie said. "Come on, Peyton... tell us the_ juicy_ stuff."

"Yeah!" Sandra agreed. "Did he have a nice butt?"

Arlene slapped her in the arm, "Shut up."

We all laughed, even Sandra who was now rubbing her arm.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, "He had _perfect_ honey brown hair. His eyes were like emeralds and they sparkled in the light. His smile was incredible and he literally had me falling over myself with desire. Everytime I looked at him, I lost my breath. He was beautiful and I was the luckiest girl in the world to have him. He was amazing. I loved him, _so much_... I still do love him." The last part had me on the verge of tears. _It's true_, I thought to myself. _I love him, still. Even after what he's done._

"Wait, wait, wait— _was? Loved? _What happened?" Sandra demanded.

I took a deep breath, "He cheated on me."

All three inhaled sharply, but it was Arlene who spoke first. "That littl' good fer' nothin', prissy, stuck up, rich boy_ cheated _on ya'?" She stood sharply. "I'll kill 'em! Where's my shotgun?"

I sighed, "Sit down… _please._" Arlene sat roughly, shaking her head.

"Oh my god," Millie gasped. "You're not _serious…_"

"Can you believe it?" I asked her grimly.

"I don't!" Millie remarked, shaking her head. "Why didn't you call us?"

"Because practically, the day after it happened, I was on a plane coming here. I figured I'd see you soon enough." That a lie, I had to admit. But they all seemed to buy it. I hadn't even _thought _to call them— I was awful. In fact, I hadn't even thought to call _Andy_. I'd completely separated myself from this place… but it was right in front of me now, and everywhere I turned, it kept smacking me in the face.

Millie grabbed my hand, dragging me back down to the conversation, "God, Peyton Maye- I'm so _sorry_. If Charlie ever did that to me, why I think I'd run him over with a tractor!"

We all laughed. "There weren't any tractors on hand, so I couldn't. But trust me, I thought about it." I replied.

For a moment, we sat there, each in our own thoughts. "So, tell me what I missed." I asked, changing the subject. I was tired of talking about _me. _I wanted to about their lives and listen to the stories they'd had.

Arlene and Millie looked at Sandra who grimaced for a second. "Nothin' really. We just been missin' ya'. That's all."

I squinted, staring deep into her eyes. "Sandra Renee, now this is _enough_. Why are ya'll steppin' 'round my feelins' like they're eggshells?" It was the first time I'd ever forced my accent. And it got _all_ of their attention.

Arlene sighed, "_We've _been fine. I been'a workin' at that horse farm off'a Highway 555. And Millie's been with Charlie nearly every day—" Millie made a face and I snorted. "And Sandra's been datin' that college boy, Ron."

"Who I am _crazy_ 'bout—" Sandra whispered, rolling her eyes. "_Not. _God, he's so stupid." I looked at her quizzically but she waved it off with a hand.

"But it's not us who we need t'tell you 'bout." Arlene continued. She was suddenly deathly serious and I felt a butterfly still lingering from earlier flutter briefly.

"Okay?" I asked, confused.

Millie sighed and reached for my hand again, "It's Andy, Peyton. There's something that you _need _to know."


	6. Chapter 6

"What about Andy?" I asked seriously. Sandra and Millie shook their heads, and I saw Millie glance anxiously back towards the boys. Andy seemed fine to me, and I couldn't understand how the mood suddenly became so tense. For the first time this night, I finally felt like an outsider. Millie, Sandra and Arlene were squeezed together on the opposite side of a picnic table we sat at, facing me. Their faces were bleak and I could see a subtle _hostility_ towards me.

"We're worried 'bout what your bein' back is gonna' do t'him," Arlene told me. Arlene had never been the type to beat around the bush, and she stared me down now. She wasn't afraid to tell me her concerns and for a moment, I was briefly offended.

"Guys, I've told Andy— _countless_ times— that we're _not_ together. And we won't be getting _back_ together… he _knows _that." I said. And I was sure of this, I had relayed to Andy at multiple times that we were nothing more than friends. I thought back to the pond where we'd swam together the previous week; I'd had the realization and told him, then, that we were _nothing _more than friends.

"We know that, too… Of course, Peyton Maye. But what I don't think you understand is that it doesn't really matter to him." Millie asked. She'd always been the soother of our group and now she gently patted my hand. I realized that I'd balled my fists and at her touch, I flattened my palm against the table.

I sighed, "I think, yeah… _actually_ it does." I was short and terse and the girls were taken aback with my tone. I was suddenly upset that they were taking _Andy's_ side. Before I'd left, the four of us girls were the best friends and the boys were their own group. Nothing penetrated Sandra, Millie, Arlene and I. Even though Andy and I were together, I still made time for the girls. Because that's what best friends did… And now, to hear the three of them speak to me as though I was the enemy was disheartening. It made me feel like an alien on some distant planet, and I kind of regretted coming. Arlene rolled her eyes, but I saw Millie shoot her a look.

Sandra caught my eye and smiled, softly. She understood, perhaps better than anyone, what I was feeling. Because before I'd left, _she _was the outsider. It was funny to feel comforted by her now, because before, I'd never really liked her. Of course, she didn't know this and she always seemed content being my friend. But I'd always envied her for her charm and her looks, even if I had Andy and she was single. I supposed, that now, I could empathize with her and I wished that she would speak up and say something. However, Sandra followed Millie's gaze and isolated me across the table, which now seemed a mile wide.

Millie looked at Arlene and Sandra and then peered, for a long time, deep into my eyes. I expected her to get mad, but her next sentence surprised me. "When you left— honey, it _changed_ Andy."

"What do you mean?" My voice was quiet and hesitant. My defensiveness fell away suddenly. Andy didn't seem changed to me, and I was searching back through the past weeks in my head to find what she could've meant.

"Before ya' moved, Andy had always been a carefree guy." I knew this, of course. And I merely nodded. "He was happy…and content and everything he shoulda' been. But it was all because'a _you._ _Ya' _were the light in his eyes… the spring in step... his _true_ love." Arlene looked at me fiercely, speaking in a low voice. She wasn't hostile anymore, either.

"She's right," Sandra agreed, smiling. "But when ya' left, ya' took all that with ya'." I bowed my head, trying to hide the smile. Her statement was ironic because I'd left my heart _here._ I hadn't taken anything, I'd given it away. Then, of course, Brandon had come along and slowly, my heart migrated south and morphed into Brandon's. This, until he'd cheated, was perfectly fine with me.

"I'd never seen anything like it," Arlene continued. "Ya' know 'bout th'eight stages of grief or whateva'?"

Now Millie rolled her eyes, "She didn't _die_, Arlene. They're weren't eight stages of grief."

"You're right," Arlene agreed sarcastically. "Because Andy only had three: anger, sadness and then acceptance."

Millie chuckled, but I was now curious. "Explain, please," I begged.

Arlene smiled and nodded. "Tommy went over t'see how he was'a doin' 'bout a week after ya' was gone. He took Charlie with him, 'cus Charlie handles emotions betta' than Tommy. They found Andy up in your grandmama's barn— listening to some classical music or somethin'. I don't know... _fancy _people music." She shook her head, but I suddenly recalled Pachabel playing in the barn when I'd arrived. _HAdH__Had Andy used it to hold onto me?_ "Anyway... Andy wouldn't talk t'nobody. And so Charlie went t'climb up the ladder and maybe hug him or _somethin'_. But Andy got all bullied up and as soon as Charlie was up there, Andy knocked him clean in th'face, tellin' him t'leave. Tommy hauled Charlie outta' there 'fore Charlie could get real mad and start a fight. Still, Tommy came home— talkin' like he wasn't gonna' even speak t'Andy ever again. Y'know— _guy_ talk. The way they get all upset over nothin'."

"So I went over there, to see if maybe a more... _feminine_ approach would work." Millie began. "But Andy called me a cow and told that I was _nothing_ compared to you."

"Oh my god," I replied. "I'm so sorry." That wasn't like Andy at all. He'd never had a temper or would ever _dare _insult a lady. He _knew_ better, because his mom had drilled it in his head since he was a baby. When Andy was upset, he snapped like a rubber band and was witty with responses, but he never intentionally insulted people. Andy and I, like all other couples, had our disagreements, but he'd keep his rage within boundaries. So to hear that he called Millie a _cow_ was bewildering.

"He was th'one who was sorry, dawlin'." Sandra said, laughing. "Millie, there, went after poor Andy with a _shovel._ He apologized right quick, you bes' believe."

We all laughed and Millie blushed, "He deserved it, to say the least."

"_T'continue_," Arlene chimed. "We all left him alone; nobody went over there for _three _months. It wasn't until one night… couple weeks before Christmas, that Andy showed up on Charlie's doorstep at _four _in the mornin'. He was'a _ballin'_ like a river. Just cryin' his poor eyes out. Charlie let him cry until the crack o'dawn, but then sent him ova' Sandra's way." My heart broke at the words; even if Andy and I weren't together, I never wanted him to hurt like that. I wouldn't wish a broken heart on _anyone_, especially not Andy_._ When love ends, compassion remains. Andy was a dear person to me, and to hear that he'd suffered was tormenting. I was also slightly agitated by the fact that it was _me_ who'd caused Andy's pain, and that I wasn't there to _mend _it… _Sandra_ was. Jealousy rose in my throat for a moment, and I was confounded by its presence. _Old habits die hard, _I thought, wistfully, to myself.

"I endin' up holdin' that boy until he couldn't cry no more." Sandra told us solemnly. "And after his little water works episode, he was all depressed. He wouldn't talk and wouldn't eat. He stopped goin' t'your grandmama's, stopped ridin' horses— anything that reminded him o'you, he just... wouldn't do it."

"My god," I whispered in disbelief. I wished, briefly, that I could have done something. I would have only made it worse, rubbed in his pain— like salt into a wound. I could see it, that dreaded phone call. _"Just called to say that North Carolina is awesome! Oh… and feel better!" _Andy would have been so _thrilled _to hear from me, I snorted at the thought.

"Course, if you woulda' called— I'm sure he woulda' been better." Arlene said, unknowingly disagreeing with my thoughts.

"Why didn't you call?" Millie asked, suddenly. "We didn't hear from ya' once."

_Oh no,_ I thought. It was the dreaded question. If I wanted to stay on their good sides, I would have to tread _very _carefully. "I don't know... Just the whole move, getting settled in— it was _really _hectic." That part was true. "And besides, you guys didn't call me." I smiled inwardly. I'd managed to turn the tables back on them. I remembered sitting by the phone, with the first three numbers dialed to call them and then, with a careful precision, placing the phone back in the receiver. I'd wanted to start anew, without any baggage. And I was now witnessing the aftermath of that choice.

"We were too busy takin' of care of _your _boyfriend," Sandra replied coldly. Now I remembered why I hadn't liked her and I frowned in her direction.

"_And,_" Mille tacked on. "We wanted to give you your space. You didn't need extra stress down there." She was trying to comfort me, and in that moment, I'd never loved her more. _Thank you_, I mouthed when Sandra and Arlene weren't looking. She nodded and smiled.

We sat for a moment in silence, but then Arlene said quietly, "After a while, he got betta'. He seemed happier, more _alive._ Of course, that's because you was'a comin' back in for th'summer."

I grimaced, "But I didn't." _That dreaded phone call,_ I recalled. _It'd crushed him._

Arlene nodded, "And it started _all _ova' again. He got mad, _real _mad this time. He threw pictures of ya'll across th'room, broke things and even punched a hole in th'wall. It was worse than the first time… because now he _knew _that it was ova'. And that killed him."

"He didn't cry," Sandra said. "But he was quieter. More... _reserved_. But then he found out that you was'a comin' back in, and oh my gracious— if I ain't neva' seen a boy more happier than he was. He called each of us, tellin' us all th'news he'd heard." _He'd been glad that I was coming? _I thought, briefly cheered. Part of returning here this summer meant facing Andy, and I'd been dreading it up until I'd stepped off the plane. I was worried that he wouldn't even _speak _to me or that he'd still be _in love _with me, and I couldn't decipher which was worse. But just to hear that he'd been excited did mean _something_.

Then I remembered the fabulous greeting I'd received, and sighed. "Yeah, he was _real_ happy to see me. So happy, in fact, that on the first day I was here, we _fought_." I told her glumly.

"What'd you expect?" Millie asked me. "That he'd not be a little bitter? You were his _everything_ Peyton Maye, and you left. When are you going to grasp that sometimes you can't just _think_ about yourself?" Millie's eyes blazed for a second, but it was long enough to spark my temper.

"God, you know... that's all anyone _thinks_ about here!" I began to rant, suddenly fueled by my frustration. "It's that I _left_. That was _two _whole years ago! _Two years!_ Why is it such a big deal _now?_ And I'm back— which no seems to remember! Why can't anyone get over the fact that I left? It's not like this place is holy or something; I didn't _kill _anyone! I just _moved!_ Big deal!"

Millie sighed, back in control now, "We _know_ that. We're just trying to catch you up on what you missed. And a lot of what you missed was _because _you left. If you hadn't, Andy would still be the _Andy_ he was."

"No he wouldn't!" I yelled, standing. A couple of the people around us looked at me in curiosity, but I was suddenly very mad. Millie didn't understand; _no one _did. "People _change!_ Believe it or not, he would be _different!_ All of us are, regardless of the fact that I_ left_. Andy would not be the fourteen year old that I left, he just _wouldn't_! And you're trying to blame me because he was mad! It's really _pissing _me off because you didn't even _think_ how _I _was. Don't you think that _I _was sad, too?

"When I left Andy, I was heartbroken. I cried and cried, begging my mom to take me back because I'd made a mistake. She didn't, of course, because she told me that I'd made the decision. I didn't want to start school, I didn't want to do _anything!_ But then I remembered that life goes on! And even if I didn't have Andy, the boy I was _in love _with, I'd be okay.

"Slowly, I started to recover. And then I met Brandon and he helped me get over Andy by showing me that I was able to be my own person, without a boyfriend! I was suddenly the girl I'd wanted to be, and not who I was _expected _to be." The girls shook their head at this, but I protested. "Admit it! You guys only associated me with _Andy!_ And you know why? Because I did, _too!_ Andy was my other half! He was _always _there!

"That was… until I _left! _And I realized that my other half would just have to grow back, because Andy _wasn't _there anymore. So now, I'm suddenly the scapegoat because I'm the only one's ever been outside of Kentucky! Guys, Andy _would be_ different. He's changed, and it has nothing to do with me— here_ or _there!"

"You wouldn't know, would ya'?" Sandra demanded, her nostrils flaring. She rose and slammed a fist on the table. "You think you're _so _much betta' than us! Because you're all _fancy_ now! Well that's a bunch of bull, don't try talkin' down t'us. Don't try t'_educate _us, because we don't need none of it. Ya' may have gone t'the city, and ya' may have gotten yourself a fancy new boyfriend, but ya' are still a _part_ o'this town. And you're not betta' than _any _of us."

"That's not what I'm saying, Sandra!" I retorted. "I just—" I wanted them to understand that I was _sick _of being blamed for leaving. It was done and over and couldn't be changed. And I wanted, now, to start new. Why did they have to bring up Andy?

"That's exactly what you're sayin'." Arlene whispered.

"_Millie_, tell them what I'm getting at." I begged, looking at Millie for some support.

But she shook her head, "To be quite honest Peyton Maye, even _I_ don't know."

I sighed, trying to control the anger that was flowing through me. "Fine," I spat. "You know, I'm glad I left so that I got to know what actual _life _was like. Rather than have to conform to what everyone here wants! I'll see you guys later," I said, turning on my heel. It was the honest truth, but to them, it'd been a slap in the face.

"_Whateva'_!" Sandra called as I walked away. I was so _mad!_ But more than that, I was upset because I knew that they were right. Andy was _different_; something that I hadn't noticed until they'd brought it to my attention. As I thought of it, now, I could just _feel _it.

_Still_, I thought. _It can't be because of _me. _He seems fine now._ Now_, though. _I was walking blindly and managed to wind up in the middle of a crowd of people I hardly knew. They seemed to not notice my presence and I slipped quickly through them and into the barn that sat on the far end of Bill's property. Inside, it was cool and shady and I walked to the far end, and opened a door that led to his back field. I knew the way well because at the last one I'd been to Andy and I had discovered a tiny pond that set a little ways outside of this same door. It was where I was headed now, and I saw it as soon as I was through the door.

The pond was probably twenty feet in diameter— very, _very _small—compared to some that were on Grandma's farm. It was surrounded by lush _green _that came up to knees. For a moment, I was worried that there might be snakes, but I managed to find a rock that was taller than the surrounding shrubs; it was the perfect place for me to sit. I could see myself in the reflection of the water and I stared into my eyes for a long moment. The girl in the water didn't seem to be _me._ Her wavy blonde hair now frizzy from the heat, her aqua eyes glittering with a fading anger, her red lips set in a frown; she seemed so out of place. That wasn't me; I was supposed to be having _fun_.

I sighed and slapped the water with my hand, making my reflection contort so that I was unrecognizable. In the distance, I could see the sun starting the set and behind me I heard the sound of fiddles and guitars begin to play a familiar tune. It was a lively song that I knew would make people's feet start to shuffle and their heads to bob with the beat. I wanted to go home. _But where is home? _I thought. And then I knew: North Carolina. I wanted to go back and sort everything out with Brandon and just forget that I'd ever come here. It was a pointless move that I'd made on a rash whim. But I'd been so sure when I'd asked my mom to come that there was _some _reason to it. There'd just been some good _feeling _about returning, and while I hadn't known it then, I'd still come. _What a stupid choice, Peyton_.

"_Peyton!" _Someone called and my train of thought was derailed. I recognized Tommy's voice. I ducked so that my head was below the level of plants around me. But Tommy had already seen me from the back door of the barn, and was now walking down to where I was. As he waded through the sea of weeds and shrubs towards me, he said, "What are ya' doin' back here all alone? Charlie and I got back a couple minutes ago and Sandra was in a fit. Millie told me that ya' got mad and stormed off."

I sighed and scooted over so he could sit next to me. "I'm not mad at them, really. Well..." I thought for a moment. "Kind of still mad. _But_, I'm more upset with _myself._"

"Talk t'me," he encouraged.

"I've been back for two weeks, and I guess… I thought I'd be welcomed back with open arms, you know? But all people can talk about is that I _left_. Grandma, Andy, the girls... Nobody is happy that I'm _back. _It's all about the fact that I _left._"

"That's not true," Tommy disagreed. "Do ya'know how _happy _Arlene was when Andy told her that ya' was'a comin' back? She called Sandra and Millie right away. They all came over and planned out what they was'a gonna' say t'ya'. When _Andy_ first heard the news—why, I ain't never seen no one more happy than he was. He missed ya', _so _much." He was reciting Sandra's words and again, the brief cheer filled me.

"But what the girls said... back there," I stammered.

"Aw, Peyton Maye- they're not mad at ya'. They _love _ya' and they support ya'. But Andy just got real tore up when ya' left, and they're lookin' for someone to blame. It doesn't change how they feel 'bout ya'. Regardless of where ya' go, we'll all be here for ya'."

"Thanks Tommy," I told him.

"Don't mention it," he replied, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Tommy had always been the older brother to me, and had kept the four of us girls sane when we fought. "Now c'mon—" Tommy told me, standing up. "We've got a dance with our names on it, and I'm gonna' be mighty upset if I don't get t'see it through."

I let him pull me up and lead me back into the crowd. Sandra and Millie stood on the outskirts of a mass of dancing bodies; and when they saw Tommy and me, they both raced to join us. "I'm so sorry," Millie yelled in my ear over the music.

"Me too," Sandra agreed.

"Me three," Arlene said, walking up.

I looked in all of their faces, and smiled. "Me four, guys." We hugged for a brief moment, before Tommy pulled me away. He led me out into the middle of the dance floor and swung me into a Ten Step. It was a dance that I could do in my sleep and soon, I was swaying around to the danced and laughed and I locked eyes with all the girls. Sandra and Ron, who looked bored, Millie and Charlie and Arlene was in the arms of the local running back. She seemed euphoric as he whispered something in her ear. Our worries, brief fight, and even Andy seemed to fade away.

Everything was forgotten by sunset. Tommy and Charlie disappeared again to go play another round of corn hole and the girls and I sat at a picnic table sipping on iced tea. Sandra was the first to get up and go find Ron, who she thought was smoking around back. "By god, I'm gonna' wring that boy's neck if he's puffin' on a cigarette." She shuddered. "I hate it when he smokes, because then I can't kiss him."

"Why?" Millie asked. Both of her parents were smokers, and she'd grown up with it as a normal thing. I thought it was gross, but never voiced that opinion around her.

Sandra glared at her, "How would ya' like t'kiss a tar pit?" Sandra was not so hesitant to make her stance known.

Millie nodded, "I see."

A couple minutes later, Charlie approached and surprised Millie with a kiss on the cheek. "Ladies," he said to Arlene and me. "Would ya' mind if I steal this _beautiful _dawlin' for a dance or two."

"Have fun," I told them both. Seeing them together was the weirdest thing _ever, _but I could see that I'd just have to get used to it because they seemed… like the old Andy and me. _God, you've got to stop thinking about him._ I told myself, laughing.

Millie giggled as Charlie bowed, "M'lady." His British accent was terrible, but it had the three of us rolling. Millie blushed and slid her hand into his, and he pulled her up and away.

The running back, Duke McCoy, who'd danced with Arlene, then showed up as the dessert was being set out. His voice was deep and his arms were _huge_, but Arlene lit up as soon as she saw him coming our way. "Look natural," she hissed nervously.

I laughed as he approached, "Well hey there," I called to him.

He was staring at Arlene. "Uh.. hey Arlene," he stammered anxiously. He was just as nervous as she was.

"Hi Duke," she replied.

I rolled my eyes, but Duke smiled widely. With a little more confidence in his voice, he asked, "Ya' wanna' go get a cookie or something with me?"

I nudged Arlene under the table and she looked at me. _Go_, I mouthed.

"Uh, sure." She told him, standing. I watched as they walked off together, smiling. I was sure that he'd ask her out somewhere between the banana pudding and the Chess pie.

It was then I realized that I was sitting alone, and I wondered where Andy was. I hadn't seen him in _hours_, and according to Tommy, no one else had either. Rising, I scanned the crowd hopefully. I noticed Grandmama talking to Betty Lou and her sister, Buella Faye, who was getting ready to sing. No Andy, though.

I spotted Tommy with a couple of older men, who were, from what I could tell, pulling out their wallets. _Only_ _Tommy_, I thought. _Only he hustles a game of corn hole._ The thought made me laugh and I turned my head to look the other way.

There, under a tree, at a far end of the dancing people— stood Andy. His back was turned to me and it looked like he was talking to someone, but I couldn't see who. I nearly leaped over the table to go to him, but I caught my shoe on the side and fell. The desire to relay to him the events of the night was suddenly overwhelming, and I partially just wanted a hug. I felt like he'd empathize with me and maybe we could go back to Grandmama's and talk. Quickly, I rose to see if anyone had noticed my fall and sighed in relief to see that no one had. I pushed my way through the crowds of people and made it to Andy just as he turned to me.

His hair was in disarray, but his smile was huge. "Hey Peyton Maye," he said.

"Where have you been?" I demanded.

Andy shifted uncomfortably, "There's something I need to tell ya'."

"What?" I sighed. _Here we go again. What was with people and having these confessions tonight? _I demanded, mentally.

"Andy," a female voice said behind me. "Who's this?"

I turned to see who was speaking and was knocked breathless. Her oval face was small and her skin had an olive complexion. Her full lips were pulled back into a smile and her angular nose fit perfectly on her face. But it was her eyes that captivated me. They were gray and wolf-like, with perfectly sculpted eye brows above them. Her long, wavy hair framed this gorgeous face and her body was beautiful. She was exotic looking, but was still the girl next door. Her voice was like cinnamon: warm, rich, and sharp as a whip. She looked like an angel, or a model… or maybe both. _Where had she come from? And who is she? _

"I'm... uh..." I stammered, suddenly curious how she knew Andy. He was smiling at her, and his eyes softened the moment she'd appeared. It was something that suddenly sent my heart racing, because the look in his eyes was more than friendship.

"Baby, this is Peyton— th'girl I was tellin' ya' 'bout." My thoughts whizzed.

"Hi," she said warmly. She couldn't shake my hand because she carried two sodas, but she nodded. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh," I replied, my voice empty. _Why had Andy called her baby? _

"Uh, Peyton Maye, this is Naomi Sawyer..." Andy's voice was suddenly in slow motion and I was very dizzy. The whole party seemed to be moving slowly and I fought to keep my eyes open. I couldn't feel my fingers and my knees were very wobbly.

_Who was this _Naomi_, what kind of name was that anyway?_ My mouth was dry and my body seemed _so _heavy. I couldn't breathe, couldn't focus.

"Naomi is my girlfriend," Andy continued, his voice so far away.

_Girlfriend?_ I thought, and then I collapsed into darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

I was in a place that was very dark and very empty. I was suspended in limbo, not sure exactly how I'd ended up there. The surrounding darkness swallowed me whole, leaving me blind and helpless. It was _so_ heavy. The air was thick and damp; it was frigid and terrifying. Above me, I could feel pressure, like fingertips on my forehead. I wanted to raise my hand; to smack the fingers away, but the darkness held me down. There were no restraints or binds that kept me secured, but it was as if I'd been frozen. I wondered briefly, if this is what it felt like to be paralyzed and then I panicked, thinking that maybe I _was _paralyzed. But I couldn't remember any event that would have led to a paralysis. In fact, I couldn't remember _anything_. This brought on another bought of panic; _where am I?_ Now, I was freaking out and I thrashed helplessly, trying to lift my deadened hands. Nothing happened.

"I think I just saw her move!" A voice cried, happily. _They couldn't have been talking about me,_ I thought. _I _can't _move. Not with this black night pinning me down._

"What time is it?" Another, deeper, voice asked.

"Uh," the earlier voice responded. "It's 'bout three in th'mornin', five more minutes and we'll have been here fer' four hours."

The deep voice groaned. A third voice responded angrily, "Ya' didn't have t'stay. I told ya'll that ya' could go on home."

"I'm fine," the deep voice argued. And the night around me shifted as if I was moved.

Someone bent over me again, "Peyton Maye dawlin', can ya' open your eyes?"

_No! _I screamed helplessly. However, I could feel myself slowly start to regain my senses as I spoke the word. Beneath me, there was something soft, like a quilt or blanket, maybe. And then the pig pickin' came into focus as the memory resurfaced. I could see Millie and Arlene and Sandra, but the ending and how I'd ended up _wherever _I was wouldn't reappear.

With every ounce of energy I had left in me, I wrenched back my eyelids and stared up into my Grandmama's face. She instantly lit up; smiling so wide that I thought it would hurt her cheeks. "Oh, child! Thank ya'."

I was still a bit hazy, but glad to see her. "Where am I?" I asked, looking around. Arlene, Tommy, Millie, Sandra and Charlie stood in various spots around my bedroom at Grandmama's. I must have come home after the party ended and fallen asleep, I decided. _But why are they here? And where's Andy? _Andy's name brought a flicker of some emotion that I couldn't place and I shook my head, erasing the thought.

"Oh god," Arlene huffed. "She's gone 'n lost it! She don't even recognize us no more."

"No, Arlene," I replied. "I _know _who you are." I was still so tired, my eyes were heavy. Everyone except Arlene laughed, but I shook my head. "What happened?"

"Dawlin', ya' collapsed. Don't ya' rememba'?" Grandma pressed.

"Not really," I told her. There were images that were beginning to move into focus, but my mind was foggy. "I remember..." I said, thinking. "I remember the dress, seeing all you guys again," I looked at my friends at the far end of the room. "I remember getting mad, and dancing... but after that, I go blank." Everyone in the room exchanged nervous glances, and I began to nod off.

"We think ya' got overheated," Grandma explained. "Were ya' feelin' dizzy or anything?"

"Good thing Andy caught 'er," Tommy commented, making no attempt to cover a sneer.

Before I could question him further, Andy walked through the door with _Naomi_ following close. I was startled. _How do I know her name? _I thought, staring at the wildly exotic girl in front of me. She met my gaze carefully, and then glanced up at Andy. He wrapped his arm around him protectively and pulled her behind him as Arlene sniffed loudly. I watched as the girl kept a hand low on his hip and whispered something in his ear. He responded with a smile, _who was she?_

The answer hit me like a half ton of bricks: _his girlfriend._ My heart skipped beat and the breath whooshed out of me like wind. Everyone in the room noticed and Grandmama's hand fluttered around me. "What is it child?" she asked.

"I think," I began, trying not to stare at Naomi. Everything was clear now, and I remembered every detail. "I think it _was _the heat, and I might have been dehydrated. But then again, there's no way to tell. There was also some news that I wasn't expecting to learn," I was looking, squarely, into Andy's eyes. His gaze shifted down to Naomi, who smiled up at him. Seeing her face light up felt like someone twisted a knife in my stomach.

I vividly recalled the events of the previous night: spotting Andy from a distance, walking up to him, meeting _her. _And then I'd collapsed— that's how I'd ended up here.

"I need t'go call your momma back, and tell her that you're awake." Grandma said, standing. _Oh god,_ I thought. _My mom's going to freak. _I hadn't spoken to her much since I'd been here, and she'd probably _demand _to speak to me. But I looked at Naomi once more and my mother was forgotten. Grandmama pressed a hand against my forehead, and then sighed. "Thanks ya'll for stayin'. But if ya'll wanna' be leavin' soon, I'm sure your folks are gettin' worried. And Peyton Maye, here, probably needs some rest." She walked out of the room with one last nervous glance my way.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, and then Charlie sighed. "I think she's right. I'm glad you're awake, Peyton Maye. But I'm gettin' real tired, so I think I'm gonna' be headin' on home. Millie, ya' wanna' ride?"

Millie nodded. She walked across the room, and bent down to hug me. "Andy told us about Naomi after you fainted; I'm so sorry." She whispered the words in my ear, so no one around us heard them. I smiled and she patted my arm, before crossing back to Charlie. "Bye ya'll," she said to us. _They hadn't known? _The thought was surprising, but I realized that they'd have been completely against the idea. It struck me, then, that they were just as hard on Andy about being with _me_ as they were on me to date _him_. The girls, Tommy and Charlie wanted Andy and I back together. And Naomi was an opposition— an _intruder_— of their plans. They'd have attacked her and sabotaged her and Andy's relationship from the beginning. I knew this because I'd kept Brandon a secret for the same reason, and then some. For an instant, I was glad Andy hadn't told anyone. He deserved happiness with someone, just like I'd wanted with Brandon. But then, looking at Naomi and seeing how _out of place _she looked amidst jeans and cowboy boots, in her tight dress and fancy pearls, I didn't want her here anymore.

We all waved, and then Tommy stood. "Yeah... I think that's my cue, as well. Arlene, you betta' come on with me or Momma'll mad."

"You're right," Arlene agreed stiffly. She was glaring at Naomi and I assumed that she'd said something because Naomi shrank back at the sound of her voice. But to everyone's surprise, Arlene turned to Naomi, "Ya' need a ride?" The way Arlene asked, it sounded like she'd rather drown kittens in a river.

Naomi was taken aback for a brief moment, but she looked at Andy. "I think Andy will give me a ride. Isn't that right, babe?"

I almost laughed, when I saw Andy look frantically my way. I was sure that he didn't want me to faint again. I smiled at him and he paused for a moment, "Actually... I think I'm gonna' stay. See if her Grandmama needs anything, y'know? It'd be wiser if you just go on home; I'll call ya' tomorrow."

Naomi's gaze flew to me for an instant, but she nodded slowly. "Alright... be _careful._" It was a warning, which was obvious by her tone.

"I will," Andy promised, and leaned down to gingerly kiss Naomi's full lips.

Arlene gasped and motioned for Tommy to leave, "C'mon Naomi, Tommy's in a hurry."

I giggled softly, and Arlene grinned at me. _See ya'_, she mouthed. The three exited and I waited until I could hear Arlene shut the front door to let out the breath I'd been holding in. Andy and I were left alone, staring at each other. He said nothing and I twisted deeper under the covers. Without realizing it, I yawned and Andy chuckled. "I'm so tired," I explained, blushing in apology.

I heard him sigh, before he whispered, "Go on back t'sleep."

"I'm fine," I lied. I didn't want to close my eyes for several reasons, but they were all childish. As I stared at Andy, I noticed how much he'd changed. Nothing on the outside, but he was _different. _However, amidst these changes, I could see the Andy who'd held my hand hours earlier. He was there, and I wished that he'd return. Part of me wanted Andy to not be with Naomi, even though I knew that he _deserved _her. He deserved happiness, I'd established that earlier. But I wanted happiness to not be in the form of a fancy _city _girl.

And then I gasped. _Was Naomi what I'd become? _I was a fancy _city _girl, now. _Was I Naomi? _The thought made me shutter and Andy noticed. He bowed his head and averted my gaze. Guilt was written all over his movement— he was ashamed of what'd happened. But I was still caught up on the fact that I was Naomi's equivalent. So why had _Andy_ gone for her? He hated the idea of a city girl, which I'd never failed to pick up on. Had it all been an act to cover up Naomi? It must have been, there was no other explanation. I yawned again, my mind's marathon was exhausting me.

Andy shook his head. "I can see how tired ya' are, Peyton Maye. Ya' look like you was'a _punched_ with those dark circles under your eyes."

"No," I shook my head.

He looked at me skeptically, " How are ya' feelin'?"

I straightened, "Dizzy." My mind was whirling around at a thousand miles an hour. I wanted Andy to stay with me and help me sort it out, but I couldn't _feel _the same way about him anymore. The _friends_ idea I had was becoming harder than I'd thought. Not because I wanted _more _out of him, but I couldn't be his friend if it meant watching him with Naomi. There was just _something _about her, that I could feel even after I'd only seen her twice.

Perhaps it was the fact that she was so out of place her, or maybe it was that she seemed like a snob. _Maybe, _I thought to myself. _Maybe it's that you're jealous. _

_Of what? _I countered. _Of her looks? Of her and Andy? _Her looks I could understand; she was gorgeous. But her and Andy's relationship I couldn't comprehend as well. Maybe I was jealous that Andy was happy with someone and I wasn't. I wanted to be _them_, only with Brandon.

Brandon's name sent a ripple through my heart. I missed him so bad, now.

He chuckled, "Oh. Well, otha' than that— how are ya' feelin'… 'bout what ya' found out?"

"About you and Naomi?" I asked and he nodded. "Surprised." It was the best word I could find that didn't hint at my jealousy. _Jealousy_ would spark a few questions that I couldn't explain fully.

"Why?" Andy wanted to know.

"I don't know," I told him carefully. "It's just odd to see you with someone else." _That's enough Peyton, stop where you are, _I commanded myself. I had to tread easily now. However, my response sparked some emotion in him, but he stuffed it back down before I could identify it. Instead, he crossed the room and sat at the edge of my bed. "Tell me about her," I encouraged. I wanted to see _how _similar we actually were. The fact that she was who I'd become was scary and I wanted to prove to myself that I _wasn't_ her.

"You don't wanna' hear nothin' 'bout her." Andy disagreed.

"No, no—" I pressed. "I _do_."

"Well," Andy began. He gave me a look like he was expecting me to suddenly change my mind and shut him up. But when my intervention didn't come, he continued. "I met her 'bout five months ago; I did some work fer' her daddy and we got t'talkin'. I only started datin' her 'bout two months ago."

"Oh," I replied, changing my mind. It was too surreal all of a sudden and I needed to know something else. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go for it," Andy told me.

"What happened after I fainted?"

Andy laughed, "Well... when ya' fell, I caught ya' before ya' could smack your head on a table. And then Naomi called to your grandmama t'come and help us. Arlene and them heard and came'a runnin' up. Tommy and I got ya' into your grandmama's truck before a big fuss could start. Betty Lou wanted to call an ambulance, but your grandma convinced her that ya' was fine. Everyone went back t'th'party 'cept for all of us. We came back here and got ya' in bed and then we'd just been'a waitin' for ya' t'wake up."

"What did the girls say when you told them about Naomi?"

"Naomi actually told them, and accordin' t'her, they took it alright. It's kinda' odd for people t'see me with someone other than you, though. I can't understand for th'life o'me why that is." Andy sounded angry. He mirrored my own thoughts and I shared in his anger for a bit.

"I'll say," I whispered. "Did they _really_ not know until tonight?"

"Nope," he said. "I wanted t'keep everyone in the dark."

"_Why?_" I demanded. "They would have accepted it Andy. And maybe… they would have not rallied so much for _us _to be back together. Maybe it would have—" I almost said that maybe it would have helped him heal, because I remembered what Arlene said about how torn up he'd been over our break up. But I realized that he didn't know that _I _knew about that and it probably would have embarrassed him. So I shut my mouth and waited for him to respond.

"Because it's nice, Peyton Maye. It's nice bein' with someone without worryin' what everyone else thinks. _You _of all people must understand what that's like." I said nothing, only stared at him. His voice had taken on a mean edge and I made sure that I was in control of my temper before I nodded slowly. Andy paused, watching my reaction before continuing. "And besides— with you, there were... _expectations._"

"I don't understand," I said blankly. His statement confused me. There had never been _expectations_, I'd never set any sort of standard for him… because he hadn't _needed _one. Andy had been perfect and he'd have exceeded any standard set. So I had no idea what sort of expectation he was speaking of.

"Think 'bout it, Peyton Maye. We were _supposed _t'be togetha'. Childhood sweethearts, best friends, _neighbors— _we were practically _made _fer' eachotha'. Everyone expected us t'end up togetha'. And we were, for a while. But then ya' left and all that ended." Again, I thought about what Arlene, Millie and Sandra had said earlier, about how Andy had been _so _upset when I'd left. The way he was making it sound now, it seemed like he was almost relieved. "And then I met Naomi, and for once, there were _no_ expectations, no rules, no nothin'. Just us—bein' togetha'. And that's nice. Real _nice._"

_How could he be so cruel? _Had Andy only been with me because he felt it was the _right _thing to do? _How dare he! _I felt like I was going to cry, "Were you really that _unhappy _with me?"

"_No!_" Andy almost yelled. "I was _so _happy with ya'. But that's ova' now. We're ova'. Didn't ya' say that yourself?" He was using my own words against me, but I barely noticed from the pain slicing through my heart. _What was going on?_ Why were these words cutting so deep in me? I was angry and on the verge of tears, and I tried to make myself seem collected. It was a failed attempt and the tears spilled over. Andy looked at my face and gave me a small smile. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm bein' mean."

"I just can't understand what you're saying," I said, trying to get him to explain. "Arlene said—"

"What?" Andy pressed. And I realized that I'd said too much.

But it was too late and I couldn't stop the words from pouring out. "Arlene and the girls told me that you'd been really upset when I left. And I don't know… A second ago you sound like I tied you down and forced you to be someone you weren't. And then in the next breath you're saying how _happy_ you were with me. Which is it?" I was panting so hard and my head continued to spin. I was on the verge of fainting again, and I knew that I shouldn't be demanding this much out of him. Andy was strained, too.

But he smiled at me. "Peyton Maye, I want ya' t'know somethin' right now! You were my _first love_, and I loved ya' more than I loved _anything_. And when ya' left, yes— I nearly _died_. But like _you_, I realized that we were ova' and I moved on. But don't think for a second that I eva' regretted ya' and I. Ya' were th'best, and now Naomi _is_. I'm sorry, though."

"For what?" I asked incredulously. Andy's words made sense and I'd stopped crying. If we were going to be friends, I realized that I'd have to be happy with the choices I'd made. And I realized then, that I hadn't forgiven myself for leaving. I still blamed myself, as everyone else did, for causing Andy pain. I hadn't_ once_ thought that he was capable of standing on his own two feet simply because I couldn't picture it. I saw, now, that he'd handled our breakup in his own way and he'd moved on from it, as I had. He may have been sad and angry, but he'd overcome that. He was fine, and happy. And I needed to be happy _for _him, however hard that was going to be. I smiled faintly at my friend and nodded.

_Even if you're happy _for _him, doesn't mean that you're not going to hurt _over _him,_ I whispered to myself, letting my head drop. My selfish side still didn't want Andy to be with _Naomi._ She was simply _too _wrong for him.

Andy was still apologizing when I looked up. "I can see that all this is a lot fer' ya' to take in, I hate that this is how you gotta' find out 'bout her. Naomi is a _real _sweet girl, you'd like her."

I doubted that. _Be his friend, Peyton!_ The command was hollow, but I tried in vain to comply. "I'm fine," I sighed. "In fact, I'm _happy _for you."

"Really?" Andy's face brightened. "Aw, gee. Thanks Peyton Maye; that means a lot. You're the first person 'sides my mama t'say something that."

I nodded. "Do ya' love her?" My voice was paper thin. This was going to be harder for me to handle than the mere fact that he was dating her. Anyone could datesomeone, but love was an entirely different playing field. _You've got to do it, Peyton. You've got to hear him say it. _

Andy thought for a moment, and then he smiled. "I'm not sure… But I _sure _can see it." This was a relief— friend or not.

"Well, that's nice." I replied and the strain in my mind finally won out. I yawned without effort, "I'm sorry, but I'm just _so tired_."

He looked at me and nodded, "Ya' need your rest. I'll go see if your grandmama needs anything."

"I'm sure she doesn't," I whispered, rolling over onto my side. My eyelids drooped.

Andy rose and kneeled near my head; he stroked my hair back from my face. Without saying anything else, he kissed my forehead and left the room.

_Sleep_, I thought. _That's what I need_. My mind had a lot to comprehend and I didn't want to dwell on anything anymore. I closed my eyes and tried to find peace in unconsciousness; I yawned again. So much had changed so suddenly, and my head was left spinning. Slowly, I slipped into sleep, and when I opened my eyes, I was no longer in Grandmama's spare bedroom.

I recognized the beach that I was standing on because it was the only one I'd ever been to in my lifetime. Last October, my mom took me down to Wrightsville Beach, on the coast of North Carolina. The water had been too cold to play in and the wind was not warm, but cool. It was a gray day when we'd arrived, but my mom managed to make the best of it. We had a picnic of tuna sandwiches and iced tea, wrapped up in blankets.

I smiled at the memory and stared around my surroundings, shivering at the chill in the air. When I looked down, I saw that I was in the white dress I'd worn to the pig picking. Part of me expected to see my mom, her dark hair pulled up into the usual bun. But there was something off about this beach— it wasn't like the one in my memory. _This_ beach was only a backdrop to the dream I was having.

It was then I saw him; Andy came strolling towards me. He looked refined in his khaki's and polo, something I'd never seen him wear. I smiled at him and he winked. "Beautiful, isn't it?" He asked, staring out at the ocean.

"It is," I agreed, watching his face. I wasn't in control, I realized with horror. And the words coming from my mouth were not my own.

Andy laughed, "Dance with me." He didn't give me time to respond, because he pulled me into his arms and spun me around like a five year old.

I'd never taken a dance class and I couldn't tell the difference between Salsa and Tango; but for some reason, I knew _every _step we took now. Andy let go of my waist and twirled me out, and when I looked back at him, I gasped.

His blonde hair began to darken and grow. Streaks of honey fell like water droplets through it and I was shocked to see Brandon standing before me. Brandon looked down at me and smiled. "You look incredible."

My eyes widened and I grinned, throwing my arms around him. "I've missed you," I sobbed, tears welling in my eyes.

Brandon didn't dance with me; he only held me- and I tried to memorize every inch of him. But when I glanced up into his eyes, they weren't his.

Brandon's features morphed again, back into Andy's smiling face. Andy or Brandon, or _who ever _this person was standing in front of me, frowned at me.

Andy began to back away from me, and I reached for him. "Don't go," I begged him. "Don't leave me."

But it was Brandon who responded, "I didn't." He took another step backwards.

"_No!_" I cried, lunging forward. Andy held up his hands, shaking his head at me.

"It's over," Brandon told me.

I couldn't keep up, as the face before me shifted; but I couldn't let either one go. It was still Brandon who was treading backwards.

I looked to see Andy's face turn cold. "It's not over," I whimpered. "It never will be."

"You're the one who ended it, remember?" Brandon told me, his voice was like ice. And I saw the parallels between him and Andy for the first time. I still wasn't in control but I understood what was happening. My mind must have been so confused between Brandon and Andy that it was now trying to decipher between the two. But the conversation was confusing _me_. I wanted _Brandon, _but I was speaking to _Andy_.

"I didn't mean it," I said now to Andy. Brandon didn't reply, but turned and began to jog away. I ran forward, my hand outstretched to grasp his shirt in my hands, to hold him back, to _keep _him with me. I fell to my knees. "_I still love you!_" I cried. I didn't realize who I was speaking to until I looked up. When I did, I gasped.

Andy looked over his shoulder, and smiled at me, "Told ya' so."


	8. Chapter 8

I woke suddenly, turning away from the pink light of dawn. My mind was racing from the crazy dream; _what was going on?_ I'd told Andy that I loved him and then Brandon that I missed him and then Andy had reappeared. The dream was surreal and the previous night was still fresh— like a new wound. I could visualize Naomi's face in my mind and I sneered. Her beauty was foreign and something that I'd never seen before; surely she was from somewhere far away, not from _Kentucky_. The girls in Springfield, including myself, looked more along the lines of _Southern Belle_, not _Super Model_. I hated the girl for her looks— and just her _being _in general—and for what she was to Andy. But then I remembered that I was being _happy _for Andy and I wiped the sneer from my face. Gingerly, I rolled over, hoping to slip back into rest, but sleep evaded me. And after minutes of staring at the sky outside my window, I climbed out from beneath the covers.

Putting on a pair of jeans and a simple tank top, I slipped carefully out into the hallway. Grandmama's soft snores echoed from her room and I tiptoed out into the kitchen. Besides the phone, there was a note written in Grandmama's boxy handwriting. _Call your mama, she's worried. _

_She's not the only one_, I thought suddenly. My stomach hollowed out because my mother would be _mad. _It was the longest we'd gone without contact in a very wide stretch of time. I realized that I hadn't called her since I'd arrived; she would be furious because of it. Slowly, I lifted the telephone out of the cradle and carried it outside. I dialed a familiar number and held my breath.

She answered on the first ring, "Hello?"

"Hi Mom," I said meekly.

I heard her inhale sharply. "Peyton Maye Hale, I ought to have you back here on the _first _flight! I told you that the only way you would go away for the summer is if you _called_ me! _And I haven't heard from you in the last two and a half weeks?_ Oh, and then when I _do_ get a call, it's only to hear that you _fainted_!" My mom was spitting the words at me.

"Mom—" I tried to explain.

"I don't _believe_ you!" she shrieked. "How was I supposed to know if you were still alive?"

I rolled my eyes. My mom was always a little melodramatic, but now she was just being crazy. "Mom," I said calmly. "I'm here with Grandmama; she's keeping me in line."

She was panting; but when she responded, my mother didn't yell. "Peyton... I understand that you're with your grandmother. And I know that she's keeping you safe. But when I make a simple request to _hear_ from you more than once every three weeks—" I sighed. "I expect to _hear _from you. Is that clear?"

"Yes," I answered. "Are you done?"

She surprised me when she laughed. "I'm sorry," Mom told me. "I didn't mean to freak out like that. Guess that's why I majored in the Theatre, huh? How are you feeling?"

"Better," I told her, glad that she calmed down. "I had the craziest dream, though."

"Yeah?" my mom sighed. But then she gasped, "Speaking of Theatre, guess what?

_Uh oh..._ "What?"

My mother's voice grew excited. "Well... Last week, I was doing an audition and I met this talent agent."

"Uh huh," I said simply. "And what did he say?"

"_Well_, we got to talking... And, Peyton, he offered me a role this new play he's producing! It's local— for right now. But it makes _good_ money! Oh baby, you'd _love _it! I performed for the first time last night. I play this little old maid named Maria. Ah, it's _fantastic_!" My mother was exulting and I smiled.

"That's great," I told her, cheerfully. _Finally_, I thought. It was the whole reason we'd moved _down _there.

My mom giggled like a three year old. "It is, baby! Oh, I'm signed on for the next _five _months! And I'm getting close to 400 hundred dollars for every show! We're performing at least 15 times in the next _three _weeks!"

"God, Mom... That's—" I was going to say _'That's great!'_ but my mother cut me off.

"It's _everything_," my mom cried and then she paused, "Of course— you'd already know all of this if you ever answered your _cell phone!_"

My jaw fell open as the last two words hit me like a brick. My mom went on about the show, but I wasn't listening anymore. _How could I have not checked my phone? _Back in Raleigh, I was constantly texting or calling someone. But here, I hadn't even _thought _of it. Two weeks was practically _forever_ in the multimedia world.

I laughed at myself; _god, I sounded so stuck up_. But that didn't damper my sudden curiosity.

"Mom," I said, cutting her off in the middle of a set description. "I need to go, I think Grandmama's up."

She sighed, "Alright. But young lady, I expect to hear from you tomorrow."

I agreed, promising to call _every five _minutes, and then hung up. Quickly, I hurried back inside, heading straight for my room; the house phone still in my hand. I threw it on the bed and raised the top of my suitcase, pushing aside skirts and tee shirts until I discovered that my cell phone wasn't there.

I sat back on my heels, perplexed, and scanned my open suitcase again. A small black bag caught my eye and I tried to remember when I'd packed that. Carefully, I pulled it out and realized that my mom had written,_ You Almost Forgot All of This_. I laughed and unzipped the bag, dumping the contents onto the floor. My cell phone, charger, vitamins and a white envelope fell out.

Ignoring my phone for now, I picked up the envelope— confused once again. I turned it over in my hands and gasped. There was a sticky note attached from my mom: _This came for you, and I figured you'd find it soon enough. _Beneath that, my name was written in a very familiar script.

_It was from Brandon. _

Tears welled effortlessly in my eyes and I grabbed my cell phone and headed back outside; all the while, still clutching the letter. I walked to the barn and climbed up the ladder to the hayloft; where I settled against a bale of hay. When I was younger, I'd find my way up here whenever I was upset. The familiar smell of hay and the _simplicity_ of the hayloft always calmed me.

For a few moments, I could only stare at the letter… unable to break the seal. I ran my fingers across my name and felt the indentions of Brandon's heavy handwriting. Finally, I tore the envelope and pulled out the folded paper inside.

It was simple notebook paper; there was nothing fancy. I'd sucked up the stray tears that'd escaped and now sat, solemnly with my legs folded beneath me. With a small pause, I took a deep breath and unfolded the letter.

_Peyton,_ it said. Just seeing my name sent chills up my spine.

_It's dark outside… I don't know what time it is or how long it's been since you left me. I know that I've been awake, though, since that awful moment you walked away. I can't sleep because every time I close my eyes, all I can see is your haunted face. Those beautiful eyes of yours break my heart every time I picture them staring at me in disgust. You can't imagine the pain that sears me like a hot iron, like a thousand volcanoes, every time I picture you in tears. Because every tear that runs down your cheeks in that image is like a bullet to my chest. But I know that it's my fault, and that those bullets are coming from my gun, held in _my _hand. I know that it's my fault and I cannot begin to tell you how _sorry_ I am. There's no way that I can come up with any excuse that will pardon the things I've done. I've hurt you, badly. So badly, that I don't know if you'll ever forgive me. _

_She meant nothing, if you can believe that. __She was just another girl who caught my attention.__ She was nobody. I let my instincts take over, and I wasn't myself. I was a pig; a dirty, lying pig. (It happened twice, you caught us the second time and as soon as you left, I drove to her house to tell her it was over.) She will never come between us again; no one will. I don't see other girls now; they are blank faces and blurred figures. The only I see when I close my eyes is you. I can picture your golden hair reflecting the sunlight; your fabulous smile that knocks me breathless; your beautiful body that I worship; and then I imagine your laugh and your voice and your heart. And I see no one else; I won't… ever again. I swear to you. It is impossible for me to ever hurt like that because my heart won't allow me. It knows that it belongs to you. It knows its _home_. Nobody else matters, Peyton. Nobody ever will. _

_I love you, like the ocean loves the sky. In the vast expanse of the rolling tides, the sky's clouds still reflect. The image above is inked, permanently, into the ocean's surface... As is my love for you, Peyton. My love doesn't change, ever. No matter what storm will come, or what will break the surface— I'll _always _love you. You are the only one I want; I mean that. Without you, I don't know what to do. These past few moments, hours… _days_ have been empty and dark. I tried calling you, but you didn't answer. And I know that I deserve that. You are so incredible and I was so lucky to have you. I hope that one day, you find it in your heart to look at me without shame or anger. I hope that we can reconcile, because I _need _you, Peyton. Being without you is like being without oxygen, and I'm suffocating. _

_Please, just let me hear your voice. _

_I love you. I've always loved. And I'll love you until the day I die._

_Brandon. _

I reread it again… and again… and then twice more; until finally, I was sobbing so hard, my chest heaved. I clutched the letter to my chest and sagged sideways.

I looked around and saw my phone, thinking back to what Brandon had said. _I tried calling you, but you didn't answer. _

My phone! I'd meant to check it and had completely forgotten after I'd seen the letter. I suddenly wanted to hear Brandon's voice, _badly. _

Carefully, as if my phone my crumble to dust in my hand, I lifted it from the hay. It turned on in a matter of seconds and the screen began to flash with all the missed alerts. I clicked on my text message inbox, and without reading anything, I realized that it was full. The sender's number was familiar. It was the number that, when I used to see it, would send jolts of electricity through my body.

I shook my head, _what was I doing?_ This would only hurt me more, I knew that. And I willed myself to delete them, _all_ of them, before I could read a single one.

My voice mailbox was full, too. With shaking hands, I placed the receiver to my ear. There was a pause, and then I heard Brandon's smooth voice begin. "Peyton... please, _call me._ I know I screwed up, but please... just, just give me another chance."

I deleted it; then waited for the next one. "I love you, Peyton. And I'm sorry. Call me back— _please_."

Again, I pressed the delete button.

There were seven more voicemails from Brandon, and then there were a few frantic calls from my mom. By the time I'd listened to them all, my heart had gone cold. Every word that I heard out of Brandon's mouth sliced, deep, into my soul.

I was angry at him for what'd he'd done. _So _angry, that I wanted _punch _something. _I hated him_, I screamed in my head. I hated the very ground he walked on; and I wished that I could burn it until no living thing ever need tread there again.

But in same instant, I wanted nothing more than to throw myself on that ground where he was— simply because _he _was there. I resented him for what he did; but I still loved him. I would always love heart ached and my head was pounding. I wanted nothing more than to throw my arms around Brandon and hold him until the end of time.

How could I have been so stupid? I _knew_ Brandon loved me; he'd made a _mistake. _Everyone makes them... _right?_ My head was more rational, telling me that Brandon _cheated _on me. I looked back down at the letter, seeing where my tears were beginning to smear the ink. And I suddenly didn't know what cheating was. Quickly, I scrubbed any remaining moisture from my face and blew on the paper to dry it. My cheeks were damp again before I could blink.

Brandon _loved me_, and I'd run away. I could have stayed and we could have—

no, we _would _have— worked things out. But I was foolish and mad, and I'd insisted on leaving the love of my life _behind_. _What was wrong with me?_ _What did I do_?

"Peyton Maye?" Someone asked and I screamed, jumping back a foot. Grandmama stared at me, from the top of the ladder, in horror. She scampered onto the hayloft and crossed to me. Without any explanation at all, she pulled me into her and wrapped her arms around me. We rocked back and forth, both silent, for what seemed like forever. I cried and cried and mumbled garbled things to myself. Finally, Grandmama pulled back and ran her thumb across my cheek, catching a few falling tears. "You wanna' talk 'bout it?" She asked me.

I shook my head, but pointed from beneath her arm, at the letter. "That," I whispered, offering nothing else.

Gingerly, she picked up the letter and I turned my face into her shoulder before I could see Brandon's writing again. Grandmama read it, quickly and I felt her stiffen beside me. "That _bastard_," she growled.

"What?" I whimpered, raising my head to stare into her face. I sniffled, and willed myself to stop crying.

"He thinks that he can write ya' this letta' and you'll come crawlin' on back? He don't know ya', does he?"

I frowned, suddenly regretting that I'd let Grandmama read it. Brandon meant what he said; he wasn't just trying to get me back. "That's not it," I disagreed. Grandmama just didn't understand— she'd never been in _this _kind of love. The kind that consumed and breathed new life. Brandon and I were not just in love— we were bound together _through _love. Both he and I knew that… _now._

"Peyton Maye, that _is _it. He _cheated _on ya'."

"_So!_" I cried, pushing myself away, and wiping away the few final tears. "He loves me; he said so himself!"

"I'm sure he does..." Grandmama agreed. "But he don't deserve ya'."

I shook my head, and she reached for me. But I shoved her hand away, "You don't understand!" I told her, vehemently. "You just _don't _understand! You never have! You don't know him!"

"I don't have to," Grandmama replied calmly. "Peyton Maye, he's the kinda' guy who can say anything and girls'll just _fall _for him. He's got all th'right moves, and all th'right things to say. He'll look at ya' and you just can't resist. Ain't that right?"

"No," I lied. But she shook her head.

"Don't ya' get it, dawlin'? He just wants ya' back on his arm so he don't have to be single."

"That's not true!" I cried. "That is _not_ true, Grandmama! Believe it or not, Brandon is a _good_ guy. And he was _mine_, until I screwed it up."

"Peyton Maye, you did _nothin'_ wrong. Don't talk like that." Grandmama begged, staring at me with sad eyes. "We don't have to talk about it; I don't want ya' t'get too worked up. You're still recoverin' from yesterday."

I nodded, and let her pull me back into her embrace. She rubbed circles on my back and occasionally would mutter something that I couldn't make out. And Grandmama would just start back up with her rants about Brandon. _How to get her out of here? _I thought to myself. _Why not just ask her to leave you alone? _The practical, smarter part of me always came in handy at times like these.

"Grandmama…" I sighed.

She looked down at me. "What?"

"I can't talk about this anymore... I just, I don't know."

Grandmama nodded. "Then let's go to church," she suggested.

"I can't," I groaned. "I don't…"

"Then call Andy," she countered.

"Why?" I sputtered. _What would possess me to call _Andy _today? _

My grandmama leveled a dark glance my way, and straightened her nightgown. I hadn't realized that she hadn't changed. She must have woken up to find me out of bed and gotten panicked. "I don't want ya' t'be alone today."

"Oh, Grandmama, I'll be fine," I insisted.

Again, she gave me another look. I sighed.

Fifteen minutes later, I climbed into Andy's little truck that used to be his daddy's. "He gave it to me when I turned 16," Andy explained.

"What's he driving now?" I asked as Andy started the car. Andy and his father's relationship had always been good— something that I'd envied. But as I asked him the question now, I saw Andy shudder. Then, he steeled himself and looked at me.

"Beats me," he replied coldly.

"What?" My tone was confused.

"Didn't ya' notice that he wasn't there last night?" Andy said it with a smile, but his voice was like knives.

I thought for a moment, "Not really. Where was he?"

"Probably at _Linda's_." Andy's voice was deadly low and he spat the woman's name.

"Linda?" I asked, bewildered. Andy's mom was a Brenda, not a Linda.

"Linda Stanley," Andy hissed. "My daddy's _girlfriend._"

"_What?_" I shrieked, my voice shooting up an octave. The passanger window rattled and Andy chuckled sadistically. "Oh my god, Andy! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it wasn't important. He moved out in January, Peyton Maye."

"I'm so sorry," I said, putting my hand on Andy's shoulder.

He shrugged it off, "But anyway... to answer your question— I don't know what he's drivin' these days."

The way Andy was talking about it, he made it seem like no big deal. I gawked at his composure and remembered back to when my own daddy left. It'd torn me up inside, and it still sent pain rippling through my body. But Andy just turned the music up and stared out the window— like we'd just discussed the weather.

"They're getting divorced finalized in August," Andy whispered a moment later.

I stared at him, heartbroken for Andy, and scooted over to the middle seat. There I pulled my arm through Andy's bent elbow and leaned my head against his shoulder. When he shook out of it again, I was hurt. But he wrapped the same arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. We drove that way, saying nothing, all the way down town.

Downtown Springfield was like rural Raleigh— there wasn't that much to see. But Andy and I'd used to come down here on rainy days and sit in this little corner diner owned by Andy's uncle and aunt, the Merlottes. Tom and Hannah Merlotte were the most unique people I'd ever met; and almost everyone knew them. Hannah was from Nigeria, and she moved here when she was in college. Her dark skin was always shining and in stark contrast to her perfect, white teeth. Her husband, and Andy's uncle, Tom Merlotte met her at the University of Kentucky. They'd been in love ever since.

Tom had always been extravagant, even though he was going on 45 this year. In their house, they had—if I remembered correctly— four parrots, nine salamanders, two snakes, a handful of stray cats and a pig named Lou. When they'd married, they opened up this little diner, _The Funky Chicken_, named after Hannah's signature mango chicken. And Hannah, one of the _best _cooks in the world, always sang as she was cooking. And the sound of African songs soothed all the customers.

Andy and I walked in right around the beginning of the lunch rush. Tom stood at the concession booth and when he saw me, his eyes bugged wide. "Peyton Maye!" he called, and pulled me into a hug.

"Hey Tom," I replied, returning the embrace.

Suddenly, two dark and slender arms plucked me from Tom's hug. Hannah was beaming down at me. Her hair was darker than her skin and was teased out into an afro today; whereas Tom's long gray hair was pulled into a pony tail. "My child!" she greeted me, her Nigerian accent strong.

"Hannah!" I cried. To Andy and me, Hannah was a second mother. When we were little, she'd bring us back into the kitchen and let us lick the spoon to the cake batters.

"You guys stayin' for lunch?" Tom asked, waving his hand to an empty booth. "Hannah, here, is'a makin' her famous mango chicken today."

"With jasmine rice," Hannah added.

"We can't," Andy replied.

"Oh?" Tom asked. I looked over at Andy in surprise. He hadn't mentioned any plans on the phone…

"We're meetin' my girlfriend in 'bout 10 minutes. In fact—" Andy said, turning to me. My expression was shocked.

"We're meeting _Naomi_?" My voice was strangled.

"That's cool with ya', right?" Andy asked, putting me on the spot.

Hannah glanced at me, and gave me a small smile. I met her gaze and then looked back at Andy. "Uh, sure. I guess." _You're being his friend Peyton, don't forget that. _I tried to inhale, but I was suddenly dreading my afternoon. First the letter from Brandon, and now _this? _I didn't want to have to put on a smile for Naomi today, I just wanted to hang out with Andy. But he looked so excited that I'd been unable to say no.

"Great, we'd better get goin' then. Bye ya'll," he said to Tom and Hannah, whose faces were clouded with confusion. We'd been there a total of thirty seconds.

I watched Andy as we walked back out to his car, and as soon as I slammed my passenger door, I let my temper flare. "What the hell, Andy?"

"What?" He asked innocently, turning the key.

"Why didn't you tell me we're meeting Naomi?" I was livid.

"I didn't figure you'd come with me," Andy said, shrugging.

_"You figured right!"_ If I could've, I would have stamped my foot.

"_See?_" Andy cried. "You don't like her!"

I rolled my eyes, "It doesn't matter either way, Andy! I just don't really think _hanging _out with her is the best idea?"

"And why not?" he demanded. The list of reasons suddenly rolled out like a carpet, but I ignored them.

"For goodness sakes, Andy… you cannot _force _us to be friends!" We were both yelling so loud, the car shook.

I wasn't paying attention to where he was driving, but as I looked around now, I realized that we were on the outskirts of Springfield. "Where are we going?" I wanted to know.

"Naomi's place."

"_What?_" I shrieked. "You're kidding!" My tone was disbelieving. _Why was Andy doing this to me? _"I thought you said we were just meeting her…"

"We are… at her house," Andy explained, looking at me like I was stupid.

"Why?" I insisted. "I don't want to see where she _lives!_"

"Uh… well, we talked 'bout it last night. _She _thinks that ya'll should be friends."

"I don't!" I disagreed. "I'm perfectly fine just knowing the girl."

"Well too bad," Andy muttered under his breath as he pulled down a long, gravel drive. I could see Naomi standing on the front porch of a _massive _white house. It was an old Georgian home, with white columns that supported the roof, three stories up. It looked like the white house. Surrounding the mansion, lavish gardens of old Georgian trees and shrubs spread wide like wings. It was breathtaking and I gasped. Andy looked at me, smiling. "_Huge_, ain't it?"

I rolled my eyes, "Let's just get this over with, Andy."

"Behave, _please,_" Andy begged. "She's important, Peyton Maye."

"Yeah, yeah— _whatever_," I seethed, climbing out of the truck.

Naomi came strolling up in a very short sundress. She wrapped her arms around Andy and kissed him, then pulled back to look him over. "My, my— you just keep gettin' more and more _handsome_."

I snorted and Naomi looked at me, "Hi Peyton Maye." Her tone was curt, but it was what she called me that threw me for a second.

The slyly, I smiled and mimicked her tone. "It's Peyton, _actually_." Andy shot me a sidelong glance and narrowed his eyes. I could practically hear him telling me to _behave_.

"Well... _Peyton._ Why don't you two just come on inside? My momma just whipped up a batch of her _famous_ shortbread cookies and lemonade."

"Sounds good," Andy laughed. And the _happy _couple strode off towards the house.

I inhaled deeply, smoothed my hair, and plastered a wide smile on my face. Alright... I could do this. Andy wanted me to behave, well... then I'd just show him how _behaved_ I could be.


	9. Chapter 9

Naomi led us into the _massive _house, and I became very aware of how _very _rich Naomi actually was. We entered through two, very intricately carved, wooden doors that led into a foyer dripping with lavish wealth. There was a tall woman, with pale skin and vivid auburn hair who greeted us. "Hi, I'm Georgia Sawyer. I'm Naomi's momma."

Though the two looked nothing alike, their attitudes were very much the same. They both looked down on Andy and I. Part of me felt bad for Andy; he would have to deal with this arrogance every time he came here. The other part of me was _thrilled_ by the same fact. Georgia Sawyer looked me over and shook her head; then peered at her daughter. "Suga' why don't you go on and take them out back. I'll have Marie bring the food in a minute." Then she turned to me, "Marie is our house keeper; she's from Argentina. You do know where that is don't ya?"

"Oh course… _ma'am_," I said, pretending to sound interested.

"Yes, does your Grandmotha' have one? They're very handy."

I cleared my throat, swallowing the instinct to _inform _this woman that her housekeeper was a _human_, not a _thing._ "Uh, no. My _grandmotha'_ is perfectly capable of cleaning by _herself_."

"I'm _sure _she is," Georgia replied icily— eying my outfit. I was still in the simple jeans I'd put on earlier.

Andy turned towards Naomi, "Shall we?"

Naomi was staring, very deliberately, at her mother. "Mhm," she said, not breaking her mother's gaze.

"Peyton Maye," Andy's voice was strained; and he waved a hand for me to follow.

"I'll meet you in a minute, Andy," Naomi called behind us. "I'm just going to help Marie."

"She's never helped anybody a day in her life," I scoffed, laughing when we were out of ear shot. The back doors opened onto a wide terrace. There were exotic flowers and shrubs, and it looked like the backyard out of a magazine. Beyond the terrace, there was a small boat dock with a covered swing. As soon as we were out back, Andy's hand gripped my arm tightly and he whipped me around to face him. "Uh, _ow._" I told him, trying to wiggle my arm from his grasp.

He only clamped down harder and glared, furiously, at me. "What in th'_hell_ is the matta' with ya', Peyton Maye?"

"You wanted me to be _behaved_," I said calmly.

"This is _not _behaved; this is _evil_. You're actin' like'a _snob._"

"You mean..." I fained innocence. "Like Naomi?" My eyes were wide as I asked. But my tone was wicked.

Andy shook me, _hard._ "Stop this instant, ya' hearin' me?"

"Would you st—" I began to gasp, but Andy shook me again.

"I said, _are ya' hearin' me?_" He backed me into a wall.

My temper shot from zero to sixty. "Oh, I hear you," I hissed.

"Good," Andy spat and shoved back from me.

"And don't _ever_ touch me again," I warned as he sat down in a plush outdoor chair. "Next time, I will _make _you let go of me. Do _you _hear _me?_"

"Whateva'," Andy huffed.

I sat down in the same style chair directly opposite Andy and saw Naomi shuffling out towards us. Behind her, a very small woman carried a silver tray. "Marie," Naomi said over her shoulder. "Put those there," she pointed to the table in between me and Andy's chairs.

I watched the small woman place the tray down and look over at me. With a hesitant smile in my direction, she bowed backwards. "Will there be anything else, Miss Naomi?"

_Miss? _Since when was Naomi _above_ this woman? I rolled my eyes. "No, that's it. Leave," Naomi instructed in a brusque tone. She perched herself on the edge of Andy's lap and put her arms around his neck, nuzzling into his side. He leaned his head back and met her eyes; she kissed him.

I nearly gagged, but covered it with a quick laugh as I leaned down to grab my glass of lemonade off the tray. When I took a sip, I shuddered. It was incredibly sweet, _too _sweet. Naomi looked up at me, "Is there a problem? You set that glass _awful_ fast."

"No, no problem," I lied smoothly.

"Try a cookie, then," she encouraged.

"No, I'm okay." Though I hadn't eaten anything all day, I wasn't about to take anything she offered me.

"Really, I _insist_." Naomi narrowed those wolf eyes at me, and smiled. She was like a crouching tiger, and I was her bird. She pushed the tray towards me and I grabbed a cookie. These were better, even though I'd never been a fan of shortbread. _It must be because I was hungry_, I tried to tell myself.

Andy and Naomi were wrapped up in their little world again and I watched as she kissed his cheeks, his closed eyes, his nose, and his lips. He returned the favor by stroking her arm and kissing her shoulder. I couldn't explain the odd feelings that were coursing through me; I wanted to somehow _stake _my hold on Andy. But what was even weirder was that I wanted to _be _Naomi. I wanted to be in her place _on _Andy's lap. _No, I don't_, I disagreed with myself. _I would only if that was Brandon. _

_Brandon_, the name brought the familiar wave of pain. I refused to think about the letter; that's all this day needed, me _breaking down._ _What an impression that would make_, I laughed to myself.

"Andy, why don't you tell Peyton, here, 'bout how we met?" Naomi cooed.

Andy looked surprised, but obliged. "Ya' wanna' know, Peyton Maye?"

"Do I have a choice?" I asked Naomi.

She shook her head deviously, giggling. "I say _not_, go ahead, Andy."

I rolled my eyes, and settled back into the chair. Andy sighed, "Well... ya'know the basics, Peyton Maye-"

"Whoa, whoa—" Naomi interrupted. "Darling, did you not hear Peyton say that she prefers _Peyton_ over _Peyton Maye_? That's very rude of you to keep calling her by the wrong name."

_Disagree with her, Andy_. _You know better! _I yelled at him in my head. But he looked from Naomi to me, and then back to Naomi. "_Peyton_," he stressed the word. "Naomi and I met 'bout five months ago..." I shook my head, appalled at what he'd just done. In my entire life, Andy had never, _once_, called me _Peyton_.

"Yes and he was here fixin' my daddy's ol' tractor, isn't that right?" Naomi was bouncing with joy.

"A green '52," Andy said with a smile.

"And then I came out to offer you some iced tea, only to find ya' _shirtless_ and _gorgeous!_"

He nodded again, "It was a hot day outside."

"Only because ya' were there," Naomi chimed. "So anyway... I go outside and find Andy there workin'. And we get t'talkin' and I suppose it was just _fate_. He would find an excuse to come over _whenever_ he could for the next three months. Until finally, I gave him an ultimatum. I told him," she looked at Andy.

"Ya' either ask me out, or ya' stop'a comin' here," Andy finished.

"And he asked me out," Naomi finished, clapping her hands in delight.

"Wonderful," I sighed, completely tuned out.

"_It is_," Naomi agreed, sighing.

"Peyton Ma- I mean, _Peyton_. Why don't ya' tell _us_ how ya' met your boyfriend?" Andy asked.

My eyes bugged wide, and I nearly fell out of my chair. "_What_?"

"Tell us how you met this _boyfriend_ o' yours," Naomi said slowly.

I cleared my throat of the _shock_ I was choking on, "It's a long story."

"We've got time," Naomi continued to insist.

"I don't really want to talk about it, Naomi." I told her, cautioning her to stop.

"Oh... did he _dump _ya'?" Her fake concern was barely concealed.

I gritted my teeth, and pursed my lips. "Actually, _Naomi_. He _cheated _on me."

She snorted, softly. And I heard her mutter in Andy's ear. "I can practically _see_ why."

"_Excuse me_?" I demanded, standing. The chair I'd been sitting in was thrown back two inches.

"Oh, darling— you're excused. The bathroom's t' the left." Naomi replied.

I blinked, controlling the urge to _smack _her across the face. Tears welled as the memory of Brandon cheating on me suddenly whirled up again. I was so furious that I could have thrown the lawn chair over the moon. Before I could take a step forward to punch Naomi in the face, Andy hurriedly reached into his pocket and withdrew his keys. "Why don't ya' go grab some lunch with Uncle Tom and Aunt Hannah... And when I'm ready t'go, I'll just call up there and ya' can swing by and pick me up."

"Just don't break the truck or anything," Naomi warned.

I said nothing, and stalked back through the house. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out _why _Andy would have chosen _her._ She was a snob; a rich, stuck up snob. Naomi was everything that Andy despised about a girl— so why was he with her?

I could hear Naomi cackle from the terrace and I stole a quick glance behind me as I walked back into the house; only to see that Naomi was snuggled deeply into Andy's lap. Looking away, I sighed; Naomi and Andy were like moon beams and sun rays. They were _opposites_. Andy was warm and giving; Naomi was cold and greedy. Andy had a beautiful heart and Naomi's heart was, most likely, a black tar pit. Andy was _Andy_, and Naomi... Naomi was evil.

_Alright_, I told myself. _Maybe Naomi isn't _that_ bad. I'm just a tad biased... nobody will ever be good enough for Andy. Not even me_, I thought with a sad smile. The thought opened a floodgate in my mind, and I was suddenly drowning in memories. I thought back to when we were ten; and Andy's dad had taken us fishing. He pushed us into this little old boat; I laughed at the thought of Andy and Naomi in a boat together. I wondered if they would laugh like Andy and I did. His dad watched from the shore as we paddled into the middle of this _beautiful _lake. The sides of the boat were high, and so his dad couldn't see how Andy grabbed my hand and held it all afternoon. We didn't catch anything but a couple of small brims; but that was one of the best days of my life.

The memory made me giggle; and I looked back over my shoulder again, hoping to spot Andy. But they were gone; off in their little world, I was sure. I turned back, and exited the grand house. The sun was directly overhead and it was _really _hot, so I guessed that it was sometime near noon. I hopped in Andy's truck and peeled out of the long drive way; I hoped I ran over one of their perfectly manicured bushes. Before I got onto the main road, I put on the local country station and turned the volume all the way up. It helped me drown out some of the anger that was pulsing through me as I drove back to Tom and Hannah's diner.

When I got there, the lunch rush was in full swing. But Hannah pulled me back into the back and told me to take a seat on the counter while she worked. "So tell me, my child. What made you _want _to go to that Naomi's?"

"Trust me," I insisted. "I was there against my will. Andy thought that Naomi _wanted _to become friends."

"Ahh, I see. She didn't, you know that right?"

"I know. So I can't figure out _why _she even offered in the first place."

"Naomi is one to show off, my child. She likes to flaunt things in other people's faces." Hannah explained, waving a spatula in my direction. She handed me a plate of food, and I marveled at all the different colors and smells. The rice was delicious, and I pondered what Hannah was saying.

"So now Naomi has him, and, according to you, she's bragging about it?" I asked.

"Exactly. But my child, you don't seem particularly happy about that." Hannah said.

"It sucks to see Andy with someone else," I told her honestly.

"Because?"

"Because he was my first love, Hannah. Because I can't begin to picture him with anyone else."

"You still love him," Hannah sighed.

"That's where it gets really tricky, though." I sighed, "I mean, I guess I love him." It sounded more like a question.

"You don't sound all that sure, Peyton." she chided.

"Well, it's hard to be sure about anything when there's another variable thrown in the mix," I sighed, thinking of Brandon.

"And what variable might that be?"

"I have a boyfriend, now," I said matter of factly. My answer didn't seem to surprise her. She sat silently, contemplating my situation.

"And I can assume that you love your boyfriend?" was the first thing Hannah said after a moment.

"Of course, I wouldn't be with Brandon if I didn't." My reply was defensive, too snappy. But it was hard to see where Hannah was going with this _interrogation._

"Y'know, Peyton. I've been married to Tom for almost twenty five years. And I've loved him, ever since I say him. I tell myself everyday how lucky I am." Hannah's face lit up.

"And he's so lucky, too."

"Thanks..." she sighed, and then she laughed. "To be honest, the only _real _reason I'm tellin' you this is because I think you and I might have a lot more similarities than our love for that rice you're holding." Hannah used the same spatula to point to the rice I was shoveling into my mouth.

"Like what?" I tried to ask. But it sounded like, "Wahke wha?"

"I love my Tom; I do. I love everything 'bout him. Isn't that how you feel 'bout this boy o'yours?" Hannah looked down at me.

I nodded, "I love Brandon very much."

"And it's one of those loves that never goes away. I'll always love Tom, for as long as I live. And then even after that," she vowed. "But you see a couple of years before I left, when I was no older than you, actually. I was still in Nigeria, and there was this boy. His name was Ku'tah Hemahee. He was my partner in my Chemistry class. He was the first boy I ever fell in love with."

Hannah's eyes sparkled with the tears that were forming, I went to console her but she held up her hands. "No, no..." she sniffed. "I'm fine, really. I just always cry when I think about him. He was a lovely boy... really. And I loved him so much. He taught me a lot about myself and about the world out there."

"But?" I demanded.

"I was supposed to marry Ku'tah... He was who my parents decided for me, even though it was just a silly little infatuation. And that would have been fine, if Ku'tah had not sparked something inside of me. I was suddenly not content to stay in Nigeria. Ku'tah had described a world full of adventure and marvelous things and I couldn't sit around and not experience that. So I defied them and ran off to America; and I left Ku'tah and everyone else behind."

I took a deep breath, "And then you met Tom."

"Yes, my child. But before all of that, I _lived_. I met new people and I travelled. And by the time all that was finished, I thought Ku'tah would have been married already. It was _then _that I met Tom. And with him, I'm happy. _So happy_. But there are moments when I miss Ku'tah, and I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if I would have chosen him."

I was shocked.

"That's… that's how I feel," I sputtered, putting the rice down. "I left two years ago to go to the big city and _be _someone who I'd been told I wasn't. Raleigh for me, was _America _for you. I stopped being what Springfield made me."

"But deep down, you still know your roots," Hannah chimed and I knew we were telling the same story.

"Yeah. And I gave up Andy and all of this—"

"Though you loved him more than anything," Hannah whispered with closed eyes.

"So that I could be myself… so I could _find _who that was. Hannah! Brandon is my Tom… and Andy is my Ku'tah."

"Yes, my child… I know."

"But what does this mean? What are you saying?" I asked.

"I'm saying… be _who _you wanna' be. Be _with who _you want to be with. Don't let what you _think _is right control that. You're holding on to Andy because you feel like you _should_. But if you do continue to be _this _protective over him, make sure that it's because you _want _to."

I said nothing, because Tom entered and the mood lightened. But I was shocked that Hannah had sensed the defensiveness I felt for Andy. I was shocked that I _was _defensive over Andy. _Was she right? Was I only holding on to Andy because I felt like that's what I _should _do? _I couldn't tell. Tom cracked a joke and I smiled, putting the thought out of my mind.

For the next few hours, we laughed together, and Hannah continued to tell me stories about Nigeria. She described her school days and friends; and all the other useless information that a person can know about someone else. Some of the stories she told me were older ones that I'd heard multiple times. Then there were some that were new; that we fresh to my ears. I loved to listen to Hannah tell these stories because of the way she told them. She was so fluid; so graceful. And it didn't matter that every ten or fifteen minutes, she was interrupted by Tom calling out someone's order. She would merely begin the dish and continue on with her story; never once missing a beat. Before I knew it, it was already late in the afternoon. Tom came into the kitchen to announce that Andy called, and was asking for me to come on.

I hugged Hannah. And then she pulled me away from her and demanded that I come back in and see her before the summer was over. Tom, too, hugged me and then they shoved me out the door because a customer walked in. I rode back to Naomi's with the windows rolled down, and the music turned off; just enjoying the day I had. It didn't matter that Naomi had been a snob to me earlier, or that Andy hadn't stuck up for me. Because all that was cancelled out by the story Hannah had told me about her and Ku'tah. I couldn't help but wonder how different I'd be if I'd stayed with Andy; and I thought for the thousandth time what it would have been like if I would have stayed two years earlier.


	10. Chapter 10

Andy was outside when I pulled up to Naomi's. He kissed her on the mouth, said something that made her giggle and then kissed her again. I watched as he smiled down into her face and the way she beamed up at him. He wove his fingers through her thick hair and tilted her face back. She looked at him, completely vulnerable to his kiss. She could see it coming, as could I. And as he bent his mouth to hers for the third time, I had to look away. Because for a moment, I suddenly remembered being Naomi. And standing there, she reminded me of myself. To see Andy kiss her was like having an outer body experience. When I looked back a moment later, Andy was striding towards me.

He slid into the car in one easy movement and held a hand out for the keys; I silently handed them over and turned back out towards the passenger window. We didn't speak much in those first few miles on the ride home, which I'd anticipated. I was wrapped up in thoughts of my and Hannah's conversation. The things she'd said were still deep in my mind and I mulled over them carefully, occasionally turning to Andy. He didn't say anything, but I knew he saw me staring. I was tracing his profile with my eyes, realizing just _how _deep the stake I'd claimed in him was. And though I thought that I'd pulled it out when I left, there were still remnants.

And I knew that deep down, I still loved Andy. But I didn't think I was in love with him. I didn't _want to be _with, but I would always_ want _him. It was confusing, but somehow I understood.

Andy continued in his silence; I assumed he was still thinking about Naomi.

However, he surprised me when he pulled off onto an unfamiliar dirt road. "Where are we going?" I asked him.

He glanced at me before turning his head back to the road, "There's somethin' I wanna' show ya'."

"And that is?" I questioned.

"You'll see," Andy assured me with a grin. He fiddled with a dial on the radio and turned the volume all the way up. It was a classical station, which made me smile. But the piece that was playing was not an older composition; it was new age and more modern. The song had just begun because the notes were still soft and melodic. But as the music began to change, it also began to stir something inside of me. It was a moving piece, deep and rich in tone. The music began to stir something inside of me— some emotion that I couldn't place— but there was suddenly a change in the air and I sat up a little straighter. The music was like a ocean wave, always changing, always growing… it was beautiful.

Andy kept driving, and soon we were under a canopy of trees, the kind that I'd only seen in old western romances, where Spanish moss twisted between the branches and around the tree trunks. The sun overhead was a soft pink and fading fast into purple. It dripped through trees, and seemed to caress their limbs. I watched as the wind twisted and churned around the leaves, toying with them in some exotic dance. After another hundred feet, the road opened into a wide meadow. The grass was tall and it swayed in the wind; which I discovered when I stepped out of the tuck, was warm. There were weeds with budding flowers on their tips that decorated the open space like bursts of color. I'd never seen a place so beautiful.

Andy also climbed out, after cranking the volume of the radio station up even higher, and walked around to where I was leaning on his truck's door. "Beautiful, isn't it?" The words were eerily familiar to me and I paused for a second to let the memory of the dream wash over me.

"It is," I agreed. "Where are we?"

"Backwood," Andy replied. "I found a while ago…"

"How did I not know that this was here?" I pondered. "I feel like we should have seen this."

"I don't know," Andy said, softly, and then held out his hand, "Dance with me?" The question was so innocent, and yet I couldn't shake the sense of déjà vu. It was the dream from the previous night all over again.

My breath hitched, but I inhaled deeply. "Why?" I mused, smiling playfully.

"Because we never got to..." Andy whispered, looking at me with unspoken words. I felt like frowning, or demanding that we go back. This was foolish; it was getting late. I needed to go back to my Grandmama's and go to bed or have dinner or _something._ It didn't matter _what, _it just shouldn't be _this. _

He didn't wait for me to protest; instead, he grabbed my wrist and led me into the middle of the open meadow and swung me around in a wide circle.

"But Naomi—" I argued.

"I don't wanna' talk 'bout her," Andy said.

I sighed and slipped my other hand under his arm, sliding it to the middle of his back. I rested my head on his shoulder, exhausted after the long day, and let him sashay me around in a small square. He didn't say anything, merely stepped in time with another classical piece that was so soft and delicate, it sounded as if it could break. His hand slid down the small of my back; and he pulled me tight against him for a moment.

Then he spun me outwards and I giggled, thrilled and confused all at the same time. I should say something; ask him _why _he was doing this spontaneous thing. But I knew that there wasn't _really_ a reason; that's not what this was about. It was just a spur of the moment idea.

But then, in the same instant, I also knew that it was a peace offering of sorts. Andy was doing this because he felt bad, and the fact made me sigh. I let go of his hand and stood back, watching him nearly stumble without me in his arms. "Peyton Maye?" He asked, and I cringed.

"How can you call me that?" I asked.

"_What?_" Andy said, confused by my sudden mood swing. "I've always called ya' that."

"Naomi told you not to call me Peyton Maye anymore... and you said _okay_. And _now_, when she's not here, you _dance _with me and call me the name that only _you've _called me for my entire life? Andy, it's like I'm seeing two different people all of a sudden." And then with a sickening realization, I knew _exactly_ who the other half of Andy reminded me of.

Brandon's name swept into my mind and churned an already brewing pot. I shook my head, and pinched the bridge of my nose with my forefinger. I couldn't think about _him _right now. I had to focus on _this—_ on _Andy _and me. I shoved Brandon's name and image and everything else back for the time being.

Andy merely looked at me, and by the _way _he looked, I knew he'd been expecting this. "Peyton Maye, sometimes things just aren't worth arguin' 'bout with Naomi." _And with you, _I finished for him. The sentence that'd just come out of his mouth, applied to me too.

"You let her walk all over me," I accused. I wasn't yelling or crying. My voice was flat and calm, and if someone had been seeing us as a silent movie; they'd think that I was merely telling him what size shoe I wore. But there was a different energy in the air this evening; the energy _between _Andy and I was... _erratic _almost. It was like the last night I'd been here, we were both on edge, as we were now. I was panicked and my heart beat fast. There was something coming, I could feel it in my bones. And I wondered, for the briefest instant, why this always happened with Andy.

I always lost myself whenever I was near him; he made me do things and say things that I wouldn't have done or said with anyone else. I was never calm or relaxed but always on edge and expecting something to happen— and for the past two weeks, it had. I'd done so much unexplained stuff these past two weeks— like grabbing Andy's hand before the pig-picking— and never looked for a rhyme or reason.

"I'm sorry fer' that. Naomi is just th' kinda' person who _likes _t'have her way, more or less. She gets real defensive and _offensive_ when that don't happen. And normally, if it would have been _anyone _else, I would have told them t'shove it." he vowed. "It's just... She means _too _much and I can't _lose _her over something silly like that."

"Even if it means losing me?" I asked. The energy changed again; it's tempo increased. It was like in a horror movie, when the killer was approaching his unsuspecting victim— the background music was ever building, getting faster and faster, until all _hell_ broke loose.

Andy took a deep breath and turned from me. I couldn't see his face, but after knowing him for so long— I could almost bet that it'd be set in a very tired-looking expression. The face of a withered, old man on the body of a sixteen year old. There would be no wrinkles or sagging skin, just the look of _so many_— _too _many— memories all collecting and pooling in the same general area. There was a moment of silence and then I heard Andy whisper one word, "Yes."

My eyes slid closed, and I bowed my head. I felt like I suddenly was made of lead, and could collapse into the ground at any second. Andy turned sharply back to me and his face changed entirely. Andy Cuttsinger was a _stranger _to me now.

The music was still playing loudly from his car, but its volume began to slowly diminish as I stared into Andy's face. However, I hardly recognized it anymore. He looked back into my eyes with the same, unrestrained fierceness. Something changed, again, in his eyes, very suddenly and very quietly. He said nothing, nor did he move.

And then, I made a choice... One that caused me to fling myself into Andy's arms. And it was _me_ that he was kissing. And it was _me_ that was kissing him back.

I couldn't explain what was happening, or how, or _why_. All I could do was kiss him.

It didn't matter that he was a stranger, or that he had a girlfriend or that I _knew_ I would regret this later on tonight. Nothing mattered more than the fact that this was _Andy_. This was the boy that I'd been in love with; this was the boy who I had wanted more than oxygen. He'd been my soul mate.

In the next five minutes, the past two years and two weeks slipped from my mind. I was not Peyton Hale from Raleigh, whose boyfriend cheated on her. And I wasn't Peyton Maye from Springfield, whose one passion in life was riding horses. I was somewhere in between the two. Andy and I were not only strangers to each other, but to ourselves as well.

In those five minutes, it wasn't that I didn't _know _what was going on. It was that I didn't _care._ Andy's mouth was on mine, while his hands explored my back and then cupped my face or stroked my hair. My body was practically _glued _to his. There was a new edge to our kiss; we were both more seasoned at this, now. We knew new things and different techniques; but yet, it was still the same. There was also a memory laced with this _kind_ of kiss. Andy and I had only shared _this _type of kiss one other time. _Our goodbye kiss_, I remembered in horror. It was the second time that afternoon that I'd remembered our last night together.

I thought back to the words that'd tumbled from my lips moments ago, _"Even if it means losing me?" _

_"Yes,"_ he'd said with such an ease. The type of calm that chilled me to my bones.

No, he _couldn't_ lose me. Even if he _wanted _to, which I doubted would ever happen even _after_ what he'd just said; because I wouldn't _let _him. We were bonded together. Not by love, or by passion, or by any other emotion for that matter. It wasn't a _thing _that bonded us; it was something that just _was_. For a brief moment, I recollected a quote that I'd read in an old favorite novel of mine, _Wuthering Heights— _where Catherine was describing the difference between her love for Edgar and her love for Heathcliff. There was a point when she was detailing _why _she loved Heathcliff. _"He's more myself than I am." _She'd said to Nelly._ "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." _

_The same_...When I'd read it, I'd laughed. No one could _be _someone else. Two people's souls didn't work like that; it simply _wasn't _possible. There was such a thing as soul _mates_, just not soul _matches. _At the time, it'd sounded like some creepy form of incest. But now, I knew _exactly _what Catherine had meant.

I realized with a gripping intensity that knocked my breath away, that's how it was for Andy and I. Our hearts and our souls would be stitched together for the rest of our lives. Even if we weren't together, and were with _other_ people; Andy and I would _always _have each other in the back of our minds.

And that fact scared the _hell_ out of me.

Carefully, Andy and slid down onto the grass. I was beneath him, still kissing him. It was happening— this was happening _now_. _No, _I told myself. _I don't want this—I don't want to do this now._ But I did. I wanted Andy like _this_, right _now._ Didn't I?

I didn't know, didn't care. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. My mind was numb and I could only kiss Andy. He moved a hand down my side and I pulled against his shirt, tugging it off of him. It was happening… And I was still undecided.

And then suddenly, everything stopped.

It was Andy who broke the kiss; he didn't say anything, just _stopped._ Maybe he'd realized the same thing that I did, and was scared, too. Or maybe he realized that I wasn't Naomi, that I was Peyton Maye. Whatever it was, it was something that caused him to not meet my eyes before he pushed off the ground, stood, and then walked back to his truck. He didn't even look over his shoulder or grab his shirt. I sat up, refastening the top button on my jeans that had come undone in the whole event.

With a glance upwards, I saw that it was very close to nightfall. _How long had we been standing here?_ I pondered. It had felt like seconds, but now, it was apparent that it was _much _more. For a moment, I didn't move. But with a sigh, I, too, stood and, Andy's shirt in hand, ghosted back to Andy's truck.

I handed it to him without a word and he threw it over the back of his seat, then shut off the radio, started the engine and made a wide circle in the meadow. He said nothing, and I couldn't think of anything to say. '_Some kiss, huh? What are you going to tell your girlfriend? That we almost went _all the way_ without a word.' _was the only thing that came to mind. A small voice in my head was panicking, _What the hell just happened? _

Another voice, my rational voice, agreed. _This is going to burn a lot of bridges to friendship, Peyton. You drew a line for him not to cross, and then _you _sprinted right over it. _

I frowned to myself, and in desperation, told the voices inside my head to _shut up _for now.

So we drove home in silence; both not having the courage to speak first. When he dropped me off at my Grandmama's, Andy did not say goodbye.

Inside, Grandmama picked up on what happened_ immediately_. I didn't know _how_ she did it, but as soon as I walked in the door and she'd caught a glimpse of my face, she shuffled me over to the kitchen table. She set a plate of biscuits and a tub of butter in front of me and sat down herself. "Tell me what happened," she commanded. "Start from the very beginnin' afta' ya' left and do not leave out a single detail."

I smiled and smeared butter onto the still warm biscuits, before launching into the events that had happened that day. I told her about Andy taking me to Naomi's. When I talked about Naomi's mom, Grandmama frowned. "I never liked that woman," she interjected before lapsing back into silence. My words were like the water that flowed from a faucet. The water from a faucet was constant and simple, much like my story. But beneath the surface, there were always pipes that were working _very _hard to get the water to flow _like that_; just like I was working _very _hard in order for me to keep this amount of composure and to keep my words flowing smoothly.

I continued through the day, leaving out the story about Ku'tah. Only Hannah and I needed to know about that; if Grandmama knew, she would tell. And those were a set of very unwanted questions for Hannah to have to answer to.

I stopped then and we just looked at each other. And then I said with a small sigh, "I think I might leave."

Grandmama did a double take. "_What?_"

"Grandmama, I've made a real mess of things. I think that the best thing for me... and," I added hesitantly. "And the best thing for Andy would be for me to just pack up and head back to the life that's waiting for me."

"And so you're just gonna' _run _away?" Her voice was hard as steel.

"What else can I do?" I moaned. "Andy has Naomi; and I have Brandon. As much as I want to believe that I don't; the fact is, Grandmama, that I still love _Brandon._ It's been nice for this little while, to pretend that things are the same. But they aren't..." I'd learned that today, after kissing Andy. We had changed so much, and I thought, as the fact became clear, that the kiss had been my way of closure. I'd had to prove to myself that Andy was not the Andy I left. He was just _Andy _now. "I can't just... _forget _all of Raleigh. I still have baggage, and then here, I've stirred a pot that I wasn't ready for. I thought, too, that after Brandon, I could come here and be Peyton Maye again. I could forget Raleigh— forget everything.

"But I can't, Grandmama. And I can't just _pick up _again, with Andy or with the girls. I can't be between Peyton Maye or Peyton. And I can't try to have both Brandon and Andy. I have to stop trying to. Because I'm just hurting myself and other people… It's got to end, and the only way it's going to is if I leave."

"No, child.. Ya' can _fight_," Grandmama argued.

"For?"

"For _you_! Damnit, I've set by and watched ya' become this person who was everyone else's Peyton or Peyton Maye or whateva' you're goin' by now. You're not th'Peyton Maye who used to sprint, headlong, into th'rain. Ya' don't throw your head back and scream in defiance to th'world. Don't fight for Andy or for Brandon anymore... fight for _yourself._"

"I don't understand," I said to her, hopelessly.

"Ya' need t'find yourself again, child. Then ya' can figure out which boy is right fer' ya'." Grandmama said quietly.

"You sound like Buddha," I laughed.

"But it's true! Stay and figure out _which _Peyton ya' wanna' be. And then ya' can go home." Don't worry 'bout Andy or Brandon, alright? Worry 'bout yourself. Worry 'bout making yourself happy _first_. Ride a horse, Peyton Maye. Or climb a tree, or go fishin'! Do somethin' that's fun! Stop livin' all this drama, because that's not life. Life is livin' in the moment and enjoyin' every second of it. Who cares if ya' make a mistake or choose th'wrong thing. Ya' just go back, and start ova' again."

"That sounds nice," I agreed, trying to remember the last time I was just _me._ When I didn't worry about what anyone else was thinking. And if I was honest, I couldn't remember _one _time in a very _long _time.

"So you'll stay?" Grandmama asked in earnest, now.

"I can't make any promises. So how about... _we'll see how it goes_?"

"Whateva' keeps ya' here," Grandmama sighed. "Now, why don't ya' head on t'bed. Ya' seem t'forget that just _yesterday_, ya' fainted."

"Sounds good, Grandmama," I said, rising. "Thanks for talking with me."

"Anytime, child."

"Love you," I vowed, staring into my Grandmother's beautiful hazel eyes. They were full of love and whispered stories of the past that Grandmama dared not ever speak of.

She nodded in agreement, "Ya', too."

With that, I turned and strode off into the bathroom, in need of a good shower. The hot water sprayed across my back and relaxed my muscles, calming me almost instantly. It felt so good, in fact, that I made the water even hotter. And then, hotter still— until it was at the brink of _too _hot. For a few moments, I let it scald my body and wash away any remaining traces of Andy, before I shut it off. The mirror was fogged and the big, fluffy towel that I wrapped around myself was already damp.

I stared into the mirror for a minute, unable to see myself through the thick, steamy haze. I wondered if this is what finding myself would be like; if I would be fighting to see myself clearly through a thick haze.

In frustration, I wiped away the fog. And I could suddenly see every inch of my face and neck.

_If only it was that easy_, I thought to myself.


	11. Chapter 11

It was three days after Andy and I'd kissed, and I still hadn't heard from him. He'd called Grandmama the day after that infamous day and told her that he was sick, then the next day he claimed an ankle ailment; and finally on the morning of the third day, the telephone rang. I watched Grandmama's face, that morning at breakfast, and wished that I was the one speaking to Andy.

"He says he's not comin' today," she told me with a sigh; she replaced the phone in the cradle and drummed her fingers on the counter. "I swear, that boy just don't know how t'handle_ nothin'_!"

"Did he say why?" I asked picking apart a muffin that had just come out of the oven. I, of course, knew the answer already… but I wanted to hear his excuse.

"No... just said he ain't comin' ova'."

"Of course he isn't," I mumbled under my breath. The fact that Andy was avoiding me was hurtful. I couldn't understand _why_. Wouldn't he want to be a big boy and come face me? Wouldn't he want to say, "Listen… what happened— it was nothin'." But no, he chose instead to _avoid _me and make silly excuses. I sighed and put the muffin down, suddenly having lost my appetite.

Grandmama sat down opposite me and patted my hand. "Dawlin', I'm sure that it's nothin' ya' did."

"Grandmama, really?" I asked dubiously. "I kissed him, out of _nowhere_. And it'd only been... what? Maybe... twenty seconds after he'd told me that Naomi was _important_ in his life." While I hadn't had the courage to tell Grandmama about the kiss the day it happened, I'd finally confessed the following morning. But I'd kept it just at kissing, not going into any _more_ detail. To my surprise, Grandmama had laughed.

"'Bout time," she'd cried. "I was'a waitin' for that t'_finally _happen. Ya'll seemed like ya' was'a headin' that way. And I'm finally _glad _that ya' got it ova' with." Now, she shook her head in a silent disagreement. "He kissed ya' _back_, Peyton Maye. Don't ya' forget that."

I nodded, not because I agreed, but because I didn't want to talk about it anymore. In the past three days, I'd come to realize that I _should_ be guilty. And that I _should _apologize to Andy. But the scary part was that I didn't _want _to… because, as I'd realized the night before, I'd quite... _enjoyed _that kiss. And that realization shook me to my very core. I really _shouldn't _enjoy kissing a boy who wasn't mine— especially when that boy was _Andy._

The truth was, if I had kissed some random boy who I'd just met, I wouldn't really feel all that bad. I'd probably think of it as revenge against Brandon, and maybe even be happy because I'd finally gotten the guts _to _kiss someone else. But because I'd kissed _Andy_, a boy— _the only boy_— who I'd loved besides Brandon, I felt like the situation was different. And now, I felt bad— not guilty— but like Andy and I should tell Naomi, and I should tell Brandon.

After breakfast, I walked back to the creek to try to clear my head. I loved walks like these because I felt like some girl from the seventeenth century who took afternoon strolls. In my mind, some romantic chap would come jogging up behind me and wrap his arms around me. My fictional Mr. Darcy or Heathcliff would steal a kiss behind a nearby maple. Of course, this had never happened. However, I still daydreamed every time. There was something about _this _kind of nature— raw and untamed. Grandmama didn't mow back here on the trails, and where there was not a dirt path, the plants and trees grew wild. Everything looked primeval and when I had been younger, I'd pretend that a dinosaur would come barreling through the forest and I'd have to outrun it. My imagination, from being an only child, was as _wild _as the wilderness around me.

Pushing through an old cedar's limbs, I stood yards away from the tiny creek I'd come earlier in the summer. It was the same little strip of water that was so calming to listen to. I found a patch of sun-lit grass and lay down, resting my head against a tree trunk. I spent the morning napping in the cool grass. It wasn't that hot today because there was a storm moving in. The clouds over head had grayed and darkened quickly. But it was humid and still sticky, so the grass felt nice. Around noontime, the phone in my pocket— which I now carried with me _always,_ just in case— vibrated. I shielded my eyes and flipped up the cover praying that it wasn't Brandon. To my surprise, I hadn't heard from him at all. He hadn't tried to call me _once _in the past three days. However, the person calling me now made my heart skip twice and nearly stop. My Caller ID said one name: _Andy_.

"Hey," I sighed, lazily, trying to sound calm. "Long time no talk." My nonchalance was almost comical.

There was a slight pause, before I heard a female voice breathe, "Hello Peyton." Unless Andy was speaking in a very high pitched tone, that was _not _him— and I recognized the voice instantly.

"Naomi?" I replied, sitting up. "Why are _you_ calling _me? _And why are you on Andy's phone?"

"He's in th'shower," she explained. For a moment, I couldn't figure out _why _she was at his house while Andy was in the _shower_. Didn't that mean that Andy was... _naked_? With a sinking feeling, I realized that the two of them were probably _more_ intimate than Andy and I had ever dreamed of being— that was until, three days ago. _Oh god, Peyton… Just shut up about that already_. It seemed now, that everything somehow related _back_ to that kiss. An unpleasant image popped into my head, then, of the _two _of them, and I gasped, shaking it away before I could make out details.

"Did you dial the wrong number?" I pressed. "Hang up now if you did." I didn't want to talk to this girl. And I was confused as to why she wanted to talk to me.

"Huh? Oh _no…_ silly girl!" Naomi laughed. I made a face at being called _silly girl_ by Naomi. "I wanted t'know if I could take ya' out t'lunch. My treat? How does..." she paused, thinking. "_Today_ sound?"

My eyes bugged wide. "Are you guys doing crack over there?"

"Honey... _of course not,_" Naomi purred. "But, when I think 'bout it... what we _are_ doin' _should_ be considered illegal."

"Oh…" I whispered, my voice strained.

"So is that a yes?"

"No." My voice shot up an octave in denial. "No... Naomi, I got _a lot _to do today. And not that it's not… _sweet_ of you to offer," I lied. "But... I just don't think so."

"Well, I do." Naomi shot back. _God, I hated her._

"I said I can't," I retorted.

"Now ya' listen t'me, I'll be over in 20 minutes." I went to protest again, but she cut me off. "You wouldn't wanna' hurt _Andy's _feelins' would ya'?"_ She's using _Andy _against me. _I said nothing, and she continued. "Be sure t'wear somethin' nice... I don't want people t'think I'm with someone..." Her voice trailed off meaningfully. "Anyway... _au revoir!" _The line went dead. _She's so stupid, _I assured myself.

For a moment, I stared at my cell phone in shock. _No, _I croaked in my head. _That girl does not _honestly_ believe that she can boss me around_._ When I tell And-_ and the thought ran cold. _Andy... _I couldn't tell Andy because _Andy_ wasn't speaking to me. _But if I went out to lunch with Naomi... then he'd see that I was making an effort and maybe consider _acknowledging_ me again._ That stupid voice in my head had its moments, I had to admit. The idea began to form itself in my head; if I pretended to become friends with Naomi, maybe he'd think that I'd forgotten about the kiss. Maybe then, we could go back to being friends, like we were for those few short days before the pig picking.

As I stared around the creek for a moment, I realized that if I was going to suffer through a lunch with Naomi, I was wasting the twenty minutes I had to get ready. And with that, I jumped up and sprinted back to the house.

Grandmama was still in the kitchen, doing a crossword in the local newspaper. I flew through the back door, and breezed into my room. "Hey now!" She called as I ran past her.

"No time to talk, Grandmama," I yelled as I dug, rapidly, through my suitcase to no avail. "There is _nothing _here!" I shrieked to myself, moments later, rifling through the suitcase again.

Grandmama appeared in the doorway and out of the corner of my eye; I could see her foot tapping. "Child, would ya' like t'tell me why ya' are runnin' 'round here like you're bein' chased by a pack o'lions."

I tugged out a bright blue sundress and threw it out to the side, trying to find a pair of sandals that I could have _sworn_ I'd brought. Grandmama waited for an answer; and when I didn't supply one, she strode past me and snapped my suitcase shut with her foot. "_Hey!" _I argued, trying to pry the lid back open from beneath her house-slippered foot.

She pulled my head up with her hand, forcing me to look at her. "What is goin' on?" Grandmama demanded in a low voice.

I sighed and sat back on my heels, playing with the strap of the dress I'd selected. "Naomi wants to take me out to lunch... she's on her way now."

"_Naomi?_" Grandmama asked, disbelieving. Then she cracked a smile. "_Really_, child... what are ya' doin'?" she laughed.

"Really?" I asked. Grandmama nodded. "_Really_ I have lunch with Naomi. She's at Andy's and she'll be here any moment."

Grandmama huffed, "Why are _ya'_ goin' t'lunch with _her_?" I didn't know honestly. _Why am I going? Friends with Andy..._ That was it._ Friends with Andy… friends with Andy. I want to be his friend again. _

"She wanted to, I guess." I replied.

Grandmama frowned, "I don't like th'sound of this."

Neither did I, but I smiled and shook my head. "Grandmama, I think she just wants to get to know me." Even I sounded disbelieving.

She also didn't believe a word of it. "Yeah... just like I wanna' get to know th'_Devil_ himself."

"Are you calling me the Devil, Grandma?" I asked, laughing. And then I saw the watch on her wrist. I had less than 10 minutes, and again, I panicked. "I _have _to get ready…" I pushed, eyeing her foot, which was still holding down my suitcase, meaningfully.

Grandmama saw and stepped backwards. I could feel disapproval radiating from her. Even if she didn't _know_ my true intentions behind this lunch, she could smell it. This lunch, I knew deep down, was going to be a disaster. Naomi and I together in a room, trying to hold some ounce of conversation, would be a wasted effort. But I was willing to exert whatever amount of force it took for Andy to speak to me.

_He isn't the only one, _I thought. Brandon's face popped into my mind and I shook my head, trying to clear his face away. But his smiling face wouldn't budge. It stayed, lodged there on my temporal lobe, until I closed my eyes and acknowledged it. I watched as Brandon, moving in slow motion, smiled at me. And I saw his mouth move, forming the words, "I love you" over and over again. It was mind-numbing, and my heart began to ache. But I thought of my lunch date and shook my head again. Twice more, Brandon's mouth formed those three words. And each time, I felt as if I were stabbed. By the fifth rerun, I'd had enough and opened my eyes and looked back up at Grandmama. I felt like a drug addict who'd just taken a hit of cocaine— my mind was fuzzy and things weren't quite coherent.

Luckily, Grandmama was distracted from my brief moment. She'd turned to leave the room but before she did, I heard her mumble quietly, "Be careful..."

I nodded and ripped a thin blue sundress out of my suitcase, grabbing the white sandals I finally found. My hair was just going to have to stay as it was— wildly curled and brushed back behind my ears.

Five minutes later, a very _posh_ Camry whipped up Grandmama's lane. I opened the back door to see Naomi roll down the window and call out, "Are ya' comin' or not?"

I frowned, and turned to see Grandma scowling from the kitchen. I waved goodbye to her and strode off towards the bright red car. In the passenger seat, Naomi greeted me. "I know this is short notice... and a little awkward. But I think ya' and I just need a little gettin' t'know each otha'."

I nodded, silently agreeing with her. "Where are we going?" I asked, a moment later.

"I was thinkin'... that little place that Andy's uncle owns."

"The Funky Chicken?" I asked, bewildered. "Uh… why there?"

She shot me a sidelong glance, "Is there something _wrong_ with that place?"

_Yes! I can't go there... not with _you!_ What would Hannah say if she sees me conversing with the enemy? _"Not at all," I said, instead, giving a small laugh.

"Good… because I _love_ their jasmine rice!"

My mouth fell open; Naomi and I had something in common. I felt like I'd just seen a unicorn. "Me too," I told her hesitantly.

She smiled widely. "See, Peyton? I told ya' I don't bite."

_Yeah… _that _hard,_ I replied in my head.

When we pulled up to Tom's diner, it was very nearly impossible for me to get out of the car. _What if Hannah sees me?_ Naomi walked briskly ahead of me and threw the door open in my face. Tom greeted her, and then turned to gawk at me. _I know_, I told him silently. "Is Hannah here?" Naomi asked.

Tom shook his head as he led us to a back booth. "No, she's not feelin' well today. So I told her t'stay home."

"What a shame," Naomi pouted, but I could have laughed. "I've had a cravin' for her _famous _rice all week!" I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh at Naomi's ridiculousness. I'd noticed her outfit for the first time since I'd seen her. She was dressed in a very _tight _pair of jeans with a white button down shirt. The heels on her feet had to make her at least four inches taller, if not more. She'd clomped all the way back to where we sat now. Her exotic looking features were accented with the slightest hint of blush and her untamed locks were in loose curls.

She looked fantastic.

Other people in the Funky Chicken noticed and several heads turned as she'd entered. Tom locked eyes with one college-age guy and frowned. Now, he stood before the two of us and was smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, dawlin'." He told us, before ducking back into the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with two sodas.

"So..." I sighed. Naomi met my eyes. "What's shaking?"

She went to say something, but Tom set a plate of corn fritters between us. I supposed that when you were the current girlfriend and ex-girlfriend of the owner's nephew, you didn't have to order. "I'd like to talk t'you 'bout Andy..."

"Okay," I replied hesitantly. _Please don't know anything, _I begged in my head. _Please don't know about the kiss._

"Peyton... I know that ya' don't exactly... _like _me." _Ha, that's an understatement. _

"That's not tr-" I began to say.

"It is, Peyton. Don't lie, it's not flatterin'." She told me, calmly. We sounded as if we were discussing the stock market trends. She sat so formally across from me, with her arms folded on the table. Her wolf eyes bored holes into my skull and I could feel their intense gaze as I looked around. Two guys, one of them was the same college guy that Tom had glared at earlier, were staring intently at Naomi. I could see that they were planning their plan of approach, hoping to get her number. One guy had his back turned to me, and I couldn't make out any of his features, but he looked oddly familiar.

I exhaled loudly, looking back at Naomi. "You don't care for me that much, either."

"I don't, you're right." My jaw dropped at how nonchalantly Naomi sat across from me, acknowledging the resentment we harbored for each other. "Y'know... even if I wasn't datin' Andy, I don't think I would like ya'. Even then..."

"Me neither," I agreed.

She chuckled. "But... whateva' my feelins' for ya' may be... I'm here t'_warn_ ya'."

"Oh, god... Naomi, really? You don't have to have _that_ talk with me. I'm not tryin' to win Andy back, or anything." _I just… kissed him. No big deal. Right? _I rolled my eyes.

"That's a relief," she told me. "Even if it _is _a lie."

I began to grow angry. "Naomi, I don't like Andy like _that_ anymore."

"Ya' think ya' don't, Peyton. That's th'thing, ya' see; in your head, you've convinced yourself that you're over _my_ Andy. But deep down, ya' know you're not. Everyone can see it."

"You really must be smoking crack," I disagreed. "I am currently trying to work things out with my _boyfriend_! I don't even have _time_ to _think_ about my and Andy's past relationship. And just so you know, I don't _want _to. I'm perfectly happy with Brandon."

"Then why are ya' here?" Naomi demanded.

"_Here?_ You asked me to lunch, remember?"

"Not _here_, as in this diner… But _here_ as in Kentucky. If you're _so _happy with your little boyfriend, then why aren't ya' with him at _your_ home?"

"Because I needed t'get away for a while. When someone cheats on you, it hurts. In case you wanted to know." Then my eyes bugged wide; she _would _know. Andy would tell her _eventually_... and then she would become _me._ And Andy… And would become Brandon. It was like the dream I'd had a couple days ago. I could see Andy and Brandon's face shifting back and forth. Was that what my mind was trying to show me? The similarity between Brandon and Andy— in their actions? While I hadn't kissed Andy when I'd had the dream, did my mind see it coming? Because— now that I was _thinking_ about it, Brandon and Andy were very similar. While they looked nothing like, they both had one common denominator: _me. _And they'd also found someone better looking and more popular… I didn't dwell on the latter fact.

Naomi pulled my attention back to her, "That's just what ya' do, isn't it? _Run away_... Ya' did with Andy. And now you're runnin' away from this cat. Ya' can't handle it— makin' a mistake. So ya' just sprint headlong the otha' direction. Ya' runnin' scared." She was not about to throw this up in my face.

"You really need to watch what you're saying. I didn't_ run _away from Brandon. I _left _him. I didn't make _any _mistake— he did. And you have _no _idea what you're talking about," I warned her.

She rolled her eyes, so casually. "I'm not here t'argue with ya'. I'm merely stating a fact. And even so, Andy looks at ya' a different way than he does me— a way that I don't like… _at all._ That's partially why I want ya' t'stay away. Those looks he gives ya'... They're so different from the ones he gives me."

"Uh... _duh_." I barked. "You're his _girlfriend_, I'm not... Of course he looks at you differently."

"You cannot _honestly _think that I'm _that_ thick-skulled, can ya'? I meant— he looks at _you_ like he _should _look at _me_."

"And how is that?" I asked, sarcastically.

"Like he _wants _ya', Peyton." Naomi explained.

"What do you mean?" I pressed. Andy didn't look at me like that _at all_. She was seeing his looks in a different light— an envious light.

"I can't explain it." Naomi sounded exasperated. "It's like ya' two are runnin' on a whole different frequency. There's everyone else, which includes me... And then there's ya'll. Ya' two have an _energy _'bout ya'. It's freaky! I don't like it, not one bit."

"C'mon, Naomi. Stop!"

"Oh, honey... I would give my right arm t'have Andy, just once, give me th'looks he gives ya'. In his eyes, ya' don't see hunger or passion there. There's no desire like there is with me." I frowned, and began to say something, but Naomi held up a hand. "When he looks at you, all his eyes see are contentment. Like he could stare at ya' all day and not get bored or tired. He looks at ya' like… like you're perfect. It's sad for me... really."

"Naomi... This is enough. You clearly are misinterpreting his looks. The only reason Andy _looks _at me in _whatever way _you think is because we know each other so well. Andy and I had a thing. He was my first love and I was his... But that's it! There's nothing now. We're just friends, and we'll know eachother than anyone ever will. Except for you; you are who I used to be. Andy wants _you,_ not _me. _Okay?"

"That's what ya' think, isn't it?" she replied, leaning back. Neither one of us had touched the food. We stared at each other, willing the other to crumble to dust at any moment. "But I'm here t'tell ya' _stay away _from him. He is _mine_, now."

"He's my friend, Naomi... I'm not going to _not _talk to him."

"Ya' _will _Peyton." She corrected. "Ya' will stay away from him.

I chuckled and my eyes narrowed at her threat. I leaned forward and whispered, "Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure?"

"Because if ya' don't, I'll tell Andy that ya' called him nothin' more than a red-necked _hick_. And that you're _glad _ya' left."

"He won't believe you," I replied. "You're crazy if you think he will."

"He worries in his sleep sometimes... Did ya' know that?" Naomi asked me suddenly.

I did, Andy had always talked in his sleep. When we were younger, that's how I found out who he had a crush on; normally, it had been me. And normal, still— his feelings were returned. "So?" I pressed.

"Well, I hear him worryin' that that's what ya' really think 'bout him. He said those exact words last Friday, when he snuck ova'. Get it now?"

Andy was worried about what I thought of him? I gave a small smile, unreasonably happy that he still cared about what I thought. However, when I looked back up at Naomi, I frowned. "Not really... But to quite honest, I don't particularly _care _either. Andy and I are friends, and nothing you say will change that. You can tell him what you like," I hissed. "Now I'd appreciate if you took me _home_. I've seemed to have lost my appetite."

"That's good," she told me, rising as well. I thought she would agree with me, but instead she cooed in my ear, "Ya' could stand t'lose a few pounds anyway."

I rolled my eyes, _I should've known. _

But as we went to exit out the front door, the college guys encircled us. "Hey there suga'," they purred to Naomi.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "What do ya' want boys?"

"Wanna' get married?" one of them, a black-haired guy with glasses, asked. I turned to see who was behind me and was surprised to see Ron, Sandra's boyfriend there.

"Ron?" I asked, taking a step closer. "Why are you here?"

"Who are ya'?" He asked me, and I suddenly caught the smell of alcohol. He was drunk— then I realized with a sickening feeling that they all were.

"You're dating Sandra," I replied. "Right?"

"I don't know who that is," he smiled, obviously lying.

The black-haired kid grabbed Naomi's waist. "C'mon, let's go back t'campus… I'll show ya' what it's like t'be _loved_ by a _man_." He growled the words into her ear and nipped at her neck. She jumped, and whipped around.

"No… _thank ya'_," Naomi hissed, sliding closer to me. I grabbed her elbow and pushed through the guys. We made it outside the diner and had reached Naomi's car when we heard the boys again.

"Don't leave, cutie! We won't bite!"

"Get in the car Naomi," I commanded, trying not to freak out. There was no one around; the lunch rush had left. Naomi's car was the only one in the side parking lot where she'd parked. It was Naomi and I against three guys— if they tried anything, they'd win. But it was too late, the boy with the ebony colored hair grabbed Naomi and spun her around. He pulled her hair _hard _as he thrusted against her. She was backed against the car and looked panicked at me. I was frozen, scared stiff at the scene.

Then, my courage returned and I straightened. "Let her go," I demanded.

The red-haired kid looked at me. "Why?" He had an evil gleam in his eye that sent chills through my spine.

Naomi shoved against him, "Let me go, I said!" Her voice was chocked with fear.

The other boys seemed to sober up at Naomi's gasps and it was Ron who spoke first, "Yeah… Benny, let 'er go. I don't want no trouble again."

Bennysmiled and shook his head. "Why would I let this pretty young thing go? I bet she's _wild_. Just look at them legs, they're killin' me!"

"Damnit, I said _let her go!" _I screeched, coming quickly around the car. I tugged Naomi out of his arms and shoved her behind me. Benny took a step towards me and I let my fist fly. There was a sickening crack, and I'd thought I'd broken my knuckle. Then, luckily, I heard Benny squeal like a toddler and clutch his nose— blood streamed from between his fingers. Everyone, including myself, watched in panic as Benny fell to his knees.

"You broke my _nose!_" He cried and I stepped backwards.

"Get him out of here," a voice called from the Funky Chicken. Tom had appeared at the door and was holding a bat. He looked at Ron and the other boy and spoke again. "Don't ya' ever come back here, boys. Or I'll call th'cops on ya'll. Ya' hearin' me?"

"Yes'ir," the boys replied, bowing their heads. They grabbed Ronnie and hurled him into their car which was parked a couple spaces down.

When they pulled away, Tom looked at us. "Are ya' girls alright?"

I looked at Naomi, who had shrunken back against her front fender. "I'm going to drive her home and I'll call you when we get there."

"Thank ya', I'll call Andy," Tom replied.

"_No! _Tom, don't do that!" I cried, trying to stop him from going back inside.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because Andy will freak; it's just better if he doesn't know," I said. Andy would _flip_ if he learned what happened. And I didn't want to have to explain anything. Andy was a protective person, he'd always been. If heard that some guy had touched his girlfriend in the wrong way, he'd fly into a rage. Then, he would track down the Benny character and… I didn't even want to think about what he'd do.

"Ya' sure, Peyton Maye?" Tom questioned and I knew he didn't like the idea, but I was sure that Andy didn't need to know what happened.

"Yeah Tom, I'll take care of it."

"Okay… if you're sure. Be careful on th'way home. And nice right hook, ya' really got some punch there." I laughed and waved at Tom. Then I turned back to Naomi and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leading her over to the passenger side.

"Get in," I whispered softly. But Naomi was frozen and I sighed, leaning over to buckle her seat belt. As I slid into the driver's side, I saw Naomi start crying. "Are you okay?" I asked fiercely.

"I will be," she mumbled. "I'm just… freaked out."

"You're safe now," I promised. "Those creeps are gone."

"Thank ya', Peyton— _Peyton Maye,_" Naomi gave me a small smile. I saw for the first time a softer side of her. And even if it was really bad timing, I was glad to see that side of her. I patted her arm and pulled out onto the road.

We drove the way to her house in silence and she only spoke to give me directions. We finally pulled up her luxurious driveway and I cut the engine in front of her house. "How are ya' gonna' get home?" Naomi asked.

"I'm going to call Andy," I replied honestly.

"Are ya' tell him?" Naomi knew as well as I did that Andy did not need to be told. I almost smiled at how she didn't try to keep me from calling the guy she'd just told me to stay away from.

"You know the answer to that Naomi," I whispered, looking out the front window.

"Thank ya' Peyton Maye— I don't know how t'thank ya' enough."

"Do me a favor?" I asked, smiling her way.

"Anything—" Naomi vowed.

"Go back to hating me, it's easier for me to not like you that way."

"Ya' got it, Peyton."

I laughed and climbed out of the car, dialing Andy as I did so. He answered, to my surprise. "What?"

"I need you to come get me," I said.

"What?" he demanded.

"Yeah… long story, don't want to explain," I replied.

"Where are ya'?" Andy asked.

"Naomi's," I laughed.

Andy said nothing, but I knew he was coming. Naomi rolled her eyes at me and I laughed. "I hate you, too."


	12. Chapter 12

Andy said nothing when he'd picked me, after my and Naomi's frightening encounter with the college students. He looked at Naomi's crying face and pulled her into a hug, kissing her forehead. He tried to prod the story out of her, but she refused to say anything.

I offered no explanation of my own as to why I was at Naomi's and Andy didn't ask for one. He dropped me off at Grandmama's without a work and drove away for the second time in a row. Standing outside on Grandmama's back porch, I stared at the dusty road and the sight of Andy's truck growing smaller and smaller. He hadn't said one word to me— not _one _word.

_Why? _I asked myself. _Was it because of the _kiss_? Was he avoiding me because he was embarrassed? He made a mistake, had a lapse in judgment, it was just… _one _time. _And then I realized that I was justifying cheating and I stopped the thought midsentence. I sighed, turning to walk inside when I saw a flash of red— Andy's taillights. The truck stopped, nearly 30 feet from the end of Grandmama's drive and the cloud of dust swirled lazily around it. He cut the engine.

It sat there for a second, and I shielded my eyes against the sun— trying to see clearly. All was silent for a moment, and I heard the surrounding trees rustle as the crows perched on their tops. "Andy?" I whispered, questioning what he was doing. His truck was just… _sitting _there. I hesitated but took a step forward, debating walking down there. When another minute passed, I headed down the lane to investigate.

I strolled up next to Andy's truck, and knocked on his closed window. Andy jumped and looked at me, then frowned. I made a motion for him to roll down the window and he complied. "May I ask what you're doing here?"

Andy sighed, "I was… debatin' on somethin'."

"What?" I pressed.

"What happened? Today, I mean… Why were ya' with Naomi?"

"Andy…" I began, looking down. I couldn't tell him, he'd freak out. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Did she say somethin' t'ya'?" Andy demanded. "Did ya'll get in a fight?" I looked up into his blue eyes, wishing that he was guessing correctly. I wished I could erase the day's image out of my mind— _forever._ But I couldn't and I looked down at my knuckle, watching how the light reflected off of a small purple bruise. I gritted my teeth and clenched the already sore fist.

_Lie,_ I commanded myself. _Don't upset him; don't do that to him_. "Yes," I heard myself say.

"What did she say, Peyton Maye? Ya' can tell me," he was coaxing a confession out of me, but I turned my head, hating that I was deceiving him.

"I neva' shoulda' suggested that ya'll go out t'lunch," Andy said gloomily.

"Yeah…" I whispered, feeling guilt twist like a knife in my stomach.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and started the truck again. "I guess I just wanted t'say that…" He looked hurt, like _he _was the one I'd punched. I wanted to shake him and to tell him everything at the same time.

"_Andy—"_ I mumbled, before he could drive away. "Wait…"

"Yeah?" Andy asked. I hesitated for another moment, _should I tell him? _The torn-feeling in my stomach only grew as the seconds ticked on.

"Oh… nothing. I forgot," I said, chickening out. Without another word, turned back to walk up the lane. Andy gave me one last look, and shrugged. I watched him go, and _not _stop, again. I regretted not telling him, but knew that it was for the best. There were some things that Andy wouldn't be able to handle— hearing that his girlfriend was almost raped by a drunken guy was one of these things. _You did the right thing, Peyton, _I assured myself, sighing.

That Friday, I was checking my email on Grandmama's old computer. It was practically archaic compared to the high-tech laptop I had at home. But it got the job done, however slow it may take to load. There was one message from my mom and a couple from teachers. My mom raved, on and on, about her wonderful debut in the acting world. Apparently, her show was getting a lot of publicity locally and that they'd sold out for four straight nights.

_Oh honey! _It read. _The stage is so great! Why did I ever leave it? _There was a small smiley face next to the question, and I could just picture her smiling face beaming. _You should see me; I haven't been this happy since the day you were born. _

I smiled as I re-read my mom's email. It was good to see her so joyful. I wondered, though, if she ever missed Dad.

The thought of him usually had me running far away; but for a moment, I allowed myself to delve in the select memories I had of him. One thing that I missed the most, that I would _never _forget, was his smell. My dad worked at a pipe company and he always smelled like plastic and old leather. To some, like my mom, it was repulsing. But to me, being so little, it always comforted me. When he left, I slept with his old sweatshirts for a week. I still kept it too, just a piece of it, under my pillow at home. And when I was sad or down, I reach under and grasp the ragged piece of fabric. Then, just for a moment, I'm eight years old again with no cares and no worries and I'm on my dad's shoulders racing around the house.

Through my child eyes, my dad's image was a little fuzzy. But I remembered and knew, from old pictures, that he had pitch black hair. It was the opposite of mine and straight as a stick. He kept it short, but long enough where I could rub my cheek on it. For years, he'd been clean shaven. Then, right before he left, he let it grow until he had a goatee. I had his square jaw and straight features— and in the mirror, I sometimes recognized my father staring back at me.

My dad's eyes were blue like mine. Only they were… _frosty._ My mom described them, in the rare moments when she would talk about him, as crystal clear like a glass of water. She said they were so deep that she always fell in; and that's how he won her heart. His smile was full and wide and he loved to work out in our dusty old barn on the weekends. He'd whistled— I remembered that; husky tunes of the Georgian fields where he grew up. Unlike my mom, my dad had never been one for horses. He preferred to work with wood and craft beautiful pieces out of them. He made the bed that I still slept in at home. His hands, from sanding, were rough but his grip was strong.

My fondest memory of my father, however, was the fall before he left. He took me to the local park, sometime in late October, so I could swing on the play ground. The air was cool outside, and summer had officially gone. The park, itself, was deserted, but the skies were clear. So my dad sat in the swing next to me and drew figures in the mulch. He told me stories about when he was a kid and how he met my mom and I can still recall his deep and hearty chuckle. We spent the afternoon laughing and then he took me out for hot chocolate that night. The memory still brought a smile to my face.

But the smile disappeared when I thought back to the night he left. It was the following November, and there was a thick blanket of snow on the ground— the first of the year. My parents had been fighting for days; and I'd been caught in the cross fire. My mom accused my dad of cheating, which at the time, I didn't understand. I couldn't imagine a husband deceiving the one he loved. _Surely,_ I'd assured myself, _she must be mistaken. Real _men _don't do that._ But now, I knew _fully_ what she meant. She told him that he didn't love her, and he'd agreed. Then there was the sound of shattering glass as my mom threw something at him. That sound— his soft _'yes'_ and the shatter— broke my heart, over and over. Sometimes, deep in the night, I still hear it, like a ghost.

By the time the clock struck midnight that night, my dad's bags were in the trunk of a taxi. He came downstairs, where my mom had dragged me into the living room. She wouldn't stop crying… and that'd worried me.

"_Momma, is Daddy alright?"_ I'd asked in my small voice. But she only looked at me and began to cry harder.

The sound of boots was heard in the hall. "Peyton Maye," he called and I ran to him.

"What's goin' on Daddy?" I wanted to know, twisting my fingers into his.

With a strained effort, he grasped my wrist and pulled it away from his hand, untwining our fingers. Then he stood, and gave me a small pat on the head. "Be good baby girl," he whispered.

My mom had joined us and stared at him with such sorrow in her eyes. She watched him close the distance between them and cringed as he kissed her face. "I'm so sorry," he swore.

Then he turned, walked out the door and never looked back.

_How could he not look back? How could he not think of what he was leaving? _The question rang in my ears now as I squeezed my eyes shut. _He hadn't looked back; he didn't regret his choice. _

The following months were hard for my mom and me. For the first couple weeks, I had to stay with my Grandmama because my mom wouldn't get out of bed. She sat there and stared at a wall for days on end. She said nothing, and ate nothing. Then, when I finally did go home, my mom walked around the house like a zombie— like she was dead. It was as if, not only my dad had left, but my mom's soul, too. Life wasn't only hard for her. I was confused at first, because I thought my dad was coming back. _He has to return, _I'd tell myself. But soon, I realized that he wasn't and so I, too, fell into the throes of sadness. It took us both a year of many sleepless nights to be able to have dinner at the table and to actually laugh at one another's jokes.

And, yet, through it all, Andy was there. His mom would come over to talk with my mom and Andy would bring me his latest knick knack, which he collected furiously at the time. He sat with me while I cried and micro-waved leftovers when I was hungry. I smiled as I remembered Andy at a young age. He'd been so starkly different from what he was now. Then, so innocent, we were untouchable. We were savages, but we were best friends. Andy's smiling face, with his jack-o-lantern mouth from losing teeth, was the best childhood memory I had. Andy, then, was the Andy I'd fallen in love with.

When the phone rang suddenly, it gave one shrill ring that made me jump half way out of my chair. "Hello?" I asked, breathlessly. No one replied and I clicked through a couple more messages, concentrating on a spam email from a music store. "_Hell..oh?_" I drug out the word as I deleted a message.

"Peyton Maye?" A husky voice said.

"Yeah..." I replied. "Who's this?"

"Andy." The email was suddenly forgotten and I whipped around in the chair I was sitting in, my eyes wide.

It was the first time I'd heard from him since the incident with Naomi. I was surprised when he hadn't called me, but knew that he was probably sorting out the story with Naomi. "Your momma's house is bein' bulldozed today... I told ya' we'd go." Andy mumbled. I felt like I'd been hit with a ton of bricks. _I completely forgot— again! _

"That's today?" _How could it be so soon? _I asked myself, slouching over in the chair.

"Yeah," Andy replied, grimly.

My heart suddenly felt like a lead weight. My childhood home was going to be torn down. All of my memories from growing up; every one of them was embedded deeply into that house. I thought of my dad for another moment, every piece of him I had left lie in that house. I sniffed quietly and asked, "When will you be here?"

As soon as I spoke the words, I heard tires coming down the lane. I gave a small smile and hung up the phone, then headed outside to where Andy was turning around. He reached over and unlocked the door so I could climb in. In the passenger seat, a white shawl was spread out. I looked at him quizzically and he hurriedly scooped it up and put it over the back seat. "It's Naomi's," he explained.

I nodded. _Had he told her about our kiss_? The last question put a frown to my face. Andy looked at me and shook his head. "She has no idea."

I chuckled, somewhat glad that he still hadn't told her. I'm sure she was still coping with our lunch's events— I'm surprised that she'd even talked to Andy. I looked around the cab, knowing that Naomi had sat here before me. For a moment, I wondered if they'd spoken of me. Then, Andy pulled me out of my thoughts by laughing. "What?" I pressed.

"Ya' look mighty serious ova' there, Peyton Maye. Whatcha' got on your mind?"

"My mom's house is going to be bulldozed; I'm not supposed to look exactly _cheery_, am I?" The statement reminded me of _why _I was in Naomi's seat and I frowned.

He nodded in consent, "I shoulda' remembered."

"No, you _should have _called me earlier. Why didn't you?"

"It's not that I've been ignorin' ya'... it's just—" he let the sentence trail off.

_It's just that your girlfriend doesn't want you speaking to me_, I told him in my head. "Naomi said something about that," I muttered, mostly to myself. "The other day… Of course, that was befo— _oh..._" I cut myself off with a look of horror. I would not tell him about the college guys

"At lunch?" He asked.

"Did she tell you about it?" My question had a different question laced with it, and I was wondering which Andy was going to answer. _Did she tell him about her not wanting me to talk to him? Or did she tell him about her almost being raped? _

Andy nodded, "She said that I should stay away from ya'." I sighed with relief.

"Then why are you here with me?" It was meant sarcastically, but I could see Andy chew the question for a moment.

"Whatcha' mean?" He shot me a confused glance as he turned off onto the highway.

"She told me to stay away from you, Andy." I explained. "And you just said that she told you to stay the _hell _away from me. So?" Andy paused for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"You're my friend, Peyton Maye. Just drop it, alright?"

"_No,_" I insisted. He was not going to avoid my questions. "Why are you here? Why didn't you listen to her?" I couldn't understand why half the things that came out of my mouth actually _did_. It was like my mouth worked twice as fast as my brain and I only thought of what I was _actually_ saying _after _it'd been said. But now, I was curious. If Andy cared so much about Naomi, why wouldn't he comply with her requests?

"I just… I'm not gonna' abandon ya' here. You're my friend and it don't matter 'bout th'past we had. You're my friend, and friends are important t'me. Naomi can't tell me t'stay away from th'things that are important t'me." I felt like there was more, but I let the subject drop.

"Fine then..." I said, and the conversation faded into silence. Andy was close to my mom's house; a couple turns and we'd be there. And there was one more obvious conversation topic was still hanging loose in the air. I sucked in a deep breath and whispered, "We need to talk about that kiss."

Andy was sure to keep his face wiped clean of emotion, but I could see his eyes spark briefly. Then he sighed. "What 'bout it?"

"_Are you serious?_" I demanded, laughing. What did he mean _what about it? _We'd _kissed; _in my book, that was a _pretty _big deal.

"Huh?" The look of incomprehension darkened Andy's features.

I smiled. "You said 'what about it?' I think the answer to that is pretty clear. You have a girlfriend... I have Brandon. You and I are _not_ together and we _kissed... _Andy, we _cheated_." The thought sickened me. _How could I have let myself get that out of control? _

"Peyton Maye," Andy began, but he shook his head. "I don't know what t'tell ya'. We _kissed_. People make mistakes; that's what they do. Ya' gotta' move on, Peyton Maye. _Ya' know?_" _You mean to say, I need to move on from the fact that Brandon cheated on me? _I corrected him in my head and my mood soured instantly. How dare he be the judge of when I should _move on! _He had no right to say _anything_.

"Why did you kiss me?" I asked. This question had been resting in my mind for what seemed like a millennium. I'd come up with several different options, which, for the most part, reflected my own feelings.

One, Andy was caught up in the moment. The music had been playing, Backwood around us had been like a picture from a movie and everything had been perfect. We were dancing and staring into each other's eyes and the moment was _there_. It was right for taking and we both felt it.

Two, Andy was confused. He had a lapse of judgment and thought, for an instant, that I was Naomi. I'd briefly imagined him as Brandon, so why couldn't he have seen me as Naomi? This second option, I doubted considerably. Andy was not _that _careless.

Three, Andy still lov— _No, _I thundered in my head. _Stop right here, stop right now. _The idea that Andy still loved me was ridiculous. And when the thought had popped up in my mind, I shot it down quicker than a sitting duck. I refused to entertain the thought and shook my head to clear it.

So it was the first option, it _had _to be. Because… there was _no _other option— none, at least, that were coherent.

For a long moment, his eyes seemed to ravage through my soul. I was stunned at his intensity. But the sound of a blaring horn forced him to break my gaze, and I was able to breathe for a moment. The road that we were on was two lanes and surrounded by a thick wall of trees on both sides. It was a shortcut that sliced ten minutes off our journey; it was also a road that hardly _no one_ ever drove on. It was empty today except for the one car that honked at us, so Andy pulled off on the shoulder. I looked at him questioningly and he said, "I'd like to talk t'ya'. That is..._without _worryin' whether I'm gonna' be hit 'n die."

I chuckled softly. "You never answered my question."

"Ima' gettin' there," Andy chided. I waited, and he continued to peer at the surrounding woods. But then, with a deliberate slowness, he turned towards me fully. "Last Sunday... before ya' picked me up, Naomi and I got in a fight."

"About?" _What could the _golden _couple possibly fight over? _I thought sarcastically in my head.

"Whatcha' think dawlin'?" He asked. When I shrugged, Andy laughed. "I'll give ya' a hint: it starts with'a _y _and ends with a _u_."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Andy replied, glumly. "We broke up two _whole _years ago and you're still the hottest topic of conversation in my life. How does that work out, do ya' suppose?" We both laughed at that, because it was true both ways. I'd spoken and thought more about Andy than I had _myself. _As the laughter subsided, Andy continued. "She told me that she was'a thinkin' 'bout takin' ya' out t'lunch and give ya' a warnin'. I told her th'lunch part was a good idea, but the warnin' was unnecessary."

_How wrong he'd been about lunch_, I shuddered at the thought.

"_Oh... _she _did_ warn me, alright," I assured him.

"And I told her not to... So, she accused me off still lovin' ya'. I denied it, Peyton Maye. Naomi, _of course_, didn't believe me. She went into this fit like none I'd ever seen before. She was'a screamin' so _loud _that her momma' thought I was attackin' her. Course, Naomi settled down eventually. And then, when I got in th'car... something just _came_ ova' me. I couldn't help it; it was like my mind was in autopilot." He paused to clear his throat. "I wasn't plannin' on kissin' ya', that wasn't my intent at all. I just don't know what happened."

"Yeah," I blushed. "I understand." And although I didn't, I felt as though Andy needed a little feedback on my part. Naomi and he had fought… _over me? _And she'd accused him of still _loving _me? She was more of a jealous person than I'd thought.

"But I shoulda' stopped it, you're right. I neva' shoulda' even asked ya' t'go to Naomi's. She isn't all too happy that you're here. But I felt like if I just _introduced_ ya'll, then maybe ya'll woulda' gotten along! Guess that didn't work, huh?"

"Not exactly," I agreed with a laugh.

Andy smiled, "We did cheat, and I feel bad now." _We _all _do Andy, _I told him inwardly.

"So what do we do?" I asked instead.

He thought for a moment, "Here's my idea. I'm not gonna' tell Naomi..."

"Why?" I asked, cutting him off. _Why would you not tell your girlfriend? Lying and hiding only ruins things! _I thought furiously of Brandon's betrayal and hissed under my breath.

"She don't need t'know, Peyton Maye. It'll break her heart!" Andy sounded so muchlike Brandon in that moment, that I was startled. _How could he think of it like this? Why wouldn't he just _tell _her? _

But then, I realized that a small part of me _didn't _want Andy to tell her. Not because it would break Naomi's heart, or because she would probably punch me when she found out. I didn't want Andy to tell his girlfriend because I liked the fact that Andy and I had _one _thing that was _just _between us.

It was like being in kindergarten again, when friends tell secrets to one another. There's always one girl who doesn't want anyone else to know because she finally feels a part of something— that secret is something that no one else knows, just the two of them. That girl was usually me, I realized with a frown. Andy shook his head and I reared back in the seat, appalled at myself. _Naomi had to know, there was no other way around it. _My nostrils flared. "All the more reason to tell her!" I shot back, vehemently. "Don't you think it'll hurt her worse not _knowing_?"

"No, I don't," he replied sharply. "I'm not gonna' tell and I think ya' should do th'same."

"_Why?_" I demanded, throwing my hands in the air.

"Peyton Maye, we _all _have our secrets—" he was right, I realized with a gasp. Naomi and I were keeping a secret of our own from him. I was such a hypocrite; I was demanding that Andy tell his girlfriend something when I'd specifically told _her _not to tell Andy.

_It's different this time; this one is more important, _I assured myself. But was it really? A secret is a secret, no matter what it's about. _It's different, this is _cheating. My mind had a point, this was a personal vendetta of mine. Cheating, no matter who did it, was worse than any other secret.

I made a face of disgust. "All you're doing is breaking her heart. Brandon kept the fact that he cheated from me, and that made finding out so much more painful. Because not only did his infidelity kill me, but then, to add the fact that he _lied _on top of that! I don't know... Andy. Brandon didn't tell me and you saw how bad that ended."

"Well, are ya' gonna' tell Brandon?" Andy wanted to know.

This was the question I'd been hoping to avoid. "Brandon is hundreds of miles away… Your own girlfriend is fifteen minutes from this very spot. Andy, I think you've got the more pressing issue."

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. "See? Ya' know _exactly _how I feel, too. Stop playin' this victim card. It happened, it's ova'. He cheated. Grow up, Peyton Maye. People make mistakes— and they _move _on. I don't wanna' tell her, and ya' can understand _why_. I know that your boyfriend hurt ya', but ya' can empathize with him now for hidin' it from ya'—"

"_Don't—_" I demanded. "Don't you _dare _try to make what Brandon did to me less awful."

"I'm not!" Andy replied loudly. "I'm just tryin' t'get ya' t'see that ya' can't keep holdin' on t'this _anger _ya' got— not _now_. Ya' screwed up 'bout as bad as he did."

"I can't believe you," I whispered. "You sound just like _him._"

"Stop comparin' your boyfriend t'me! We're different..."

"How Andy?" I demanded, frustrated. "In my eyes, it's the exact same! Brandon kissed someone that wasn't _me_. And he _lied_ and covered it up! It's the sa-"

"_Because Brandon didn't love th'girl! To him, she was just some easy whore! But that's not what ya' are t'me, Peyton! _That's _not_ what ya' are t'_me_!" Andy yelled back and all time suddenly seemed to stop.


	13. Chapter 13

"That's _not_ what I meant!" Andy stammered, quickly. But the words hung heavily in the air.

Part of me wanted to demand _what_ his deal was; why would he say something like that? Because Brandon didn't love the girl? And Andy did?

Andy continued to explain, and I only caught half of it. "I was just meanin' t'say that th'girl, t'Brandon was _nobody_. She don't matta', but ya' matter t'me. Y'know? I don't… _love _ya', that's weird."

I laughed and shook my head. I didn't freak out like I normally would've. My mind had strayed away to my old childhood home, and I sat staring out the window as Andy played nervously with his keys. But when he cleared his throat, I shrugged. "Alright..." I said with a small laugh.

He whirled in his seat to face me, "_What?" _

I looked at him and shrugged again. "Okay... it's not what you meant. That's cool." Andy's eyes bugged wide and I laughed harder. "You act like I just told you I work for a government agency and that I'm here to kill you. Relax Andy; words can come out wrong... I get that."

"Do ya' happen t'work for th'CIA?" Andy asked. "You're _real _calm. Spies can do that, too. Can't they?"

"Stop making such a big deal out of it," I told Andy, seriously, catching a glance of the clock. "We need to go anyway..."

Andy blinked twice before turning the key in the ignition. As he pulled back onto the main road, he said, "Just so ya' know... When I said that..." he paused. "_What I said._ I meant that you're more t'me than just a friend..." He backtracked suddenly, "I mean... you're not just some _girl._ Not that ya' _were _or anything..."

"Just stop, Andy." I sighed, and we both laughed.

I watched as the trees began to fade around us, and beamed when Andy turned up my old dirt road. The house was about a mile back, and was surrounded by an acre of grass. Off to the side, there was a lake that my mom used to swear had fish in it. But to this day, I'd never seen even one. Everything else from the house to the road was _woods_. God, I loved these woods. As a child, I'd built forts and castles and climbed nearly every tree. Andy had been with me through almost every adventure— he even caught me once when I fell out of an old maple.

The house itself was a different story entirely. It looked like a tiny cottage, the way that the visible beams on the front of the house criss-crossed. Inside, it had three bedrooms and an attic the size of Montana. I laughed when I remembered back to how my mom would always tell me that she could have hidden the entire Navy inside our attic. It was the biggest room in the house. As kids, Andy and I played pirates and dungeons in there. I wondered if my mom had packed up everything that was in there. When we moved, I stayed in North Carolina while she came back and got everything else. I wondered if the old pictures of her and Grandma were there, or the dress-form that she'd used to make my dress-up clothes— or if it was just… empty.

Emptiness— that was my biggest fear. I dreaded seeing the house without a soul inside of it. There would be no sign of life in that house. It would be… _just _a house. No one would remember all that had taken place there— no one would know its history.

_And it was going to be torn down. _My mom, when she'd signed the papers, was torn. Both of us were. How could we tear down the place that had been home for 16 years? But my mom didn't want the connection to my dad— that was her main reason, I knew. She was tired of living in sorrow, knowing that her _soul mate _left her. She was having the house torn down so that she could rid herself of him forever. But unlike my mom, I _wanted _that connection. What if my dad came back? That would be the first place he went— his _home_. I pictured him, walking up the lane, scruffy and wind-beaten. He'd have walked, hitch-hiked, ridden on trains, _anything, _just to return. And he'd be so excited to see us. Then he would see _nothing_. There would be no remnants of us, of the family we _were._ And he would turn, abject and broken, and walk back to wherever he came from.

My heart broke at the thought.

But my mom signed the papers anyway. And the builder smiled at her, and told her what a great contribution she was making. Her check came for the land four weeks later.

I shook the thought away, but when a row of bulldozers appeared in the distance, I flinched. Andy looked over at me, reassuringly, and I knew that he was sympathizing with me. I gave him a small smile and scrubbed my face with my hands as Andy parked. When he turned the car off, I heard him sigh. "Ya' ready?"

I squeezed my eyes shut beneath my palms, then nodded, still not uncovering my face. Gently, Andy tugged on my wrist, forcing me to look at him. "Are ya' sure? We can wait here for a sec. It's not rush, Peyton Maye."

But I shook my head in disagreement. "No," I argued. "I want to have a look around before they start tearing it down." I had to see the place one last time. _One last time, _I thought.

Andy nodded, "Alright."

Walking up to my old home was harder than I thought it would be. We hadn't parked in my front yard; we were actually pretty far back, a couple hundred feet or so. As we approached, a couple of men and women and hard hats looked at us quizzically.

One man stopped us, asking, "Can I help you?" He was dressed casually in a pair of khaki's and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His glasses were a bit to large on his weathered face. But it wasn't his leathery features or his snowy hair; it was the words that came out of his mouth that threw me. I was surprised at his British accent, especially in such a small rural town.

"Uh, yeah..." Andy stammered, just as taken aback as I was. He cleared his throat, "Er... This is... _our _old home."

I looked up at him, my lower lip trembling. There were so many things I wanted to ask, but he silenced my questions with a calm look into my face.

"Ah, I see. You're the Hales? My name is Robert Talton, I'm the contractor."

"Yes and hi." I whispered weakly. Andy wrapped a reassuring arm around my shoulders, and I relaxed against him. I was glad, in that instant, that Andy was here. I couldn't have come with Grandmama, she wouldn't have understood. Although she'd lived less than half an hour away, she hardly ever visited up here. I'd never figured out _why_, but I'd never asked. Andy knew this place like I did; it was a home to him, too. And as strong as he was trying to appear, I could feel the slight tremble shaking through him.

"Well... What can I do for you today?" The man asked. I looked at the contractor and suddenly wondered how he slept at night. He ruined _homes_, not just houses. He destroyed memories and happiness. Not intentionally, I knew. Still, I suddenly disliked this Robert Talton.

"We're here t'watch," Andy explained. "Th'…" his voice shook. "Th'demolition."

I squeezed his hand that was placed on my shoulder and looked at him. _It's okay... _I tried to tell him, unspoken. Andy looked down at me and smiled.

The contractor watched us and shook his head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we're not tearing down this house. You're free to watch us packing up, if you wish."

I was shocked and my jaw hung open. Even Andy cocked his head to one side. "_What?_" I sputtered, as if I choked on the word.

"Yes... we're just leaving. Things have been running a tad behind for the past hour or so, I'm sorry that you never received the notice."

"I don't understand," I said robotically, sudden relief pulsing through me. "I don't… I don't.. understand."

"Eh..." he said, looking confused. This was obviously an uncomfortable situation for him. I looked like a mess, and I was on the verge of tears. But it only from happiness. _He could still come home, _I thought, remembering my father's weathered face from my imagination.

"Aren't... Weren't you going to... _huh_...?" I didn't know how to explain what I was trying to ask. But the smile on my face was so wide that it hurt my cheeks. "Thank you!" I breathed, throwing my arms around Robert Talton's neck.

He cringed at my touch, but chuckled and patted my shoulder.

Andy, too, regained composure and stepped in smoothly. "What 'bout th'demolition of this here house?"

"We don't know what happened. We got a call about an hour ago, right before we were going to start the bull dozer. The project was aborted." He gave a laugh. "Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I have some papers to sign. The men driving these machines still want money. Good day."

"Eh..." I began, unsure of what to say. I had taken a step back, breaking our hug. "_Thank you_," I managed. "Thank you so much! Again…"

"Have a good day," Mr. Talton said with a slight bow, before jogging off.

I turned to Andy, my mouth gaping open. "Did you hear that?" I shrieked.

Andy returned my grand smile and picked me up in a hug, so that I was lifted a foot off the ground. He swung me around as we celebrated. "It's great, _so great!_" The workers laughed as we celebrated; there were only a handful of them left. I paid them no mind.

"Come on!" I cried, grabbing his hand, and began to drag him inside. _My home wasn't being torn down! _The news was mind-boggling. When had the project been aborted? What had happened? So many questions bounced around in my brain as we entered the home.

On the inside, the house looked exactly the same. The walls were white-washed and all the furniture was gone, but the emptiness was not sad. The smells and sounds were the same and I felt _relaxed_. I nearly danced through the house, twirling about and giggling like a child in every room.

I stopped the foot of the stairs, closing my eyes. I heard, in the distance, Andy's boots on the floor and they sounded like my father's as he clambered down the stairs for the last time. _Thump, thump, thump_… I couldn't distinguish between my heart and the boots. I opened my eyes, sighing. Then, slowly, I placed my hand on the stair rail— feeling a surge of memories flood through me. With tentative steps, I climbed the stairs.

Upon entering the attic, I slowed as the memories hit me, yet again, like a brick wall. Andy's footsteps were loud as he climbed the squeaky stairs and he slid in beside me in the attic doorway. "My god," he breathed, whistling low.

Though there was nothing in this attic except a few empty boxes and a couple piles of old newspaper that my mom had used for packing stuff up, just being _here _was throwing us both back so many years. It was here that I'd first kissed Andy when we were thirteen. In fact, it was right where we were standing.

I took a few steps inward, allowing a foot or so of space between Andy and me. When I turned to face him, he smiled at me. "Déjà vu? Or what?"

We both laughed and I watched his face carefully, reading every emotion that passed over it. The day that I'd kissed Andy was a hot and humid August evening, the 23rd. We'd come to clean up after nearly destroying it in a fight that we'd had the previous week. All around us, books and old clothes were strewn as if a bomb had detonated. But in the middle of the mess, listening to Andy apologize, I suddenly whipped around and threw my arms around him.

"Kiss me," I whispered. And he'd stared down into my face. Then with humbled features, he smiled, carefully meeting my lips with his own."

And we'd spent the remaining year in blissful harmony.

My mind was pulled back when Andy shifted in the entry way. I looked at him quizzically and he shook his head, "C'mon."

I nodded silently, reveling in the déjà vu. As I followed Andy out, I reached to turn off the light. But the switch gave a shrill pop and short-circuited, without turning off the light. I chuckled, realizing that the thing was at least 15 years old and that the wiring in this house was even older. Luckily, the other light switch was a mere five feet away and I strode easily over to it.

Before I flip this switch, I noticed the small enveloped taped on the far wall. I eased over the creaking beams of the attic floor towards it and peeled it off. There were three words written on it: _Andy and Peyton_ and they were in my mother's curly handwriting. Inside there was a single picture of Andy and I smiling up at the camera.

We were young, maybe eight or nine, and we were both dressed in matching Halloween cowboy outfits. I was missing a few front teeth and Andy had a long cut on the side of his face. It was from where he'd fallen out of a tree, I remembered.

I smiled down at the picture of such innocence. And then I folded it in half and slipped it into my back pocket, returning to turn off the light and walk out to meet Andy downstairs.

We drove home laughing, cracking jokes about things that had happened in the house. "Ya' rememba' th'one time we made that cake and forgot 'bout it in th'oven?"

I was crying from laughing so hard and broke into another fit of cackles. "Oh my, _yes! _And that stupid cake caught on fire!"

"God, I was _so _scared that I almost peed my pants!" Andy cried, cracking up.

"Psh, I _did _pee my pants. Remember? When that fireman was yelling at me."

We both laughed. "And then..." Andy giggled. "You dared me t'eat a piece of it anyway."

"That was the most disgusting thing I think we've both eaten," I giggled, remembering the charred _mound _of red-velvet cake.

"Ya' ate _one _bite; I ate 'bout _fifty._"

"More like three," I corrected. "And then you got sick from it."

He shuddered, smiling. "The icing helped, though."

I was laughing so hard that I was gasping for air; Andy told me that he couldn't eat a cake without icing, even if it was burned to a crisp. So he slathered an entire container of butter cream icing on his piece.

The picture was tucked delicately in my pocket and could feel its edges press into my hip. We'd like this, the way we were acting now, back then. It was only fun— no stress, no Naomi, no Brandon.

I looked at Andy, knowing that he was thinking the same thing. "Do you ever… _I don't know… miss _us?"

"Sometimes," Andy said quietly. "I just… try not t'think 'bout it too often. Th'past is th'past, Peyton Maye. I like t'live in th'present only."

I did, too. But I couldn't escape the past here. This _was _my past— Mom's house, Grandmama's farm, _Andy_. I was living in my past and the present, simultaneously. I couldn't mix the two, though.

"I…" I began, trying to think of what to say. Nothing came to mind and I shrugged, turning the radio up. We sang old country songs the entire way back, songs of broken hearts, women and horses. It was great.

We pulled up to Grandmama's a couple minutes later and she waved at us from her garden where she was weeding the tomato plants.

Andy and I sauntered down there, where she handed us both a basket of ripe and juicy tomatoes. "Here," she said, straightening and wiping off her hands. "Take these t'the house and then I need ya'll t'run and check on Daisy, that mare that's gettin' ready t'_bust _with that baby o'hers." I hadn't seen the pregnant horse yet, only heard Grandmama worry over her. It was the mare's first foal, and apparently, the pregnancy had been a tough one.

I looked at Andy, "Can ya' stay?" If the mare was ready to foal, I didn't want to be alone.

"I ain't got nothin' goin' on, so yeah. O'course." He replied and I sighed, gratefully.

"Well... _get goin'_," Grandmama shooed us away with her spade and bent down to flick a bug off her pea plant nearby.

Andy and I set the tomatoes down on the back porch and I ran inside to change into a pair of jeans; Andy and I had decided that we'd ride back there on the short stroll up to the house. Two horses, Ace and the bay mare, Patches, were in the barn and only needed a bridle.

I finished pulling on my boots and walked out; expecting to see Andy waiting, but found him holding the reins of the horses. He handed Ace to me and gave me a leg up, then threw himself over the back of Patches. We trotted through an open gate and headed to the farthest field, in search of Daisy.

She was hidden in a patch of briars, her auburn coat dusty and stretched tight over her huge belly. "She's gettin' ready t'have that baby," Andy determined even before examining her closely.

I threw him a look over my shoulder and climbed down off of Ace, "Come here, girl." I whispered, reaching out my hand to stroke Daisy's mane. I had to maneuver through the briars, but managed to ease in next to her. Her nostrils flared and she shied from my touch. "She hasn't been brought in lately," I told Andy, sighing. "She's got tangles in her mane and tail _and _she doesn't like me touching her."

Andy frowned, "She needs t'be in that barn, Peyton Maye."

"I agree," I said. "But we don't have a halter." Andy slid off of Patches and started to undo her bridle. "What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Ima' put this here on _her,_" he replied, pointing to Daisy. "And walk 'er back."

I smiled at Andy's soothing touch as she slid the bridle onto Daisy's head. Then he gently tugged on the rein, leading the mare forward.

"What about Patches?" I asked. "We can't just _leave _her back here. She goes in the field up front."

Andy sighed. "I'll come back'n get her later, after we've gotten Daisy in th'barn."

I nodded and dug my heels into Ace's side; he sauntered next to Andy, who led Daisy back. By the time we were arrived at the barn, the sun was setting. It was a beautiful sight, pinks and orange and purples all thrown like paint across the sky. It looked like a picture or a painting done by someone famous.

Andy wiped his hands after settling the mare in with a bucket of feed corn and fresh water, and then held asked me for Ace's reins. I watched as Andy rode off into the picturesque sunset, smiling. _What a good day... _I thought to myself. _I wish it'd never have to end. _


	14. Chapter 14

"_Wake up... _come on Andy. _Answer your phone!_" I cried frantically into my cell phone, jumping about. It was 3:30 on a Sunday night; not exactly the _best _time to be calling someone, but the crisis at hand was worth it. Grandmama trotted into the room, snapping her overalls around her nightgown. Her long gray hair was wild and her wrinkled face looked stressed. "Is he answerin'?" she demanded.

"No, and I don't know why!" I shot back, pulling on my own jeans. _Of course… why would someone be _sleeping _at night— this early in the morning? Crazy? _I couldn't say my sarcastic remark aloud, for fear that Grandmama might hit me.

"We don't have time t'stand here, that horse is havin' a baby _now!_ She ain't gonna' wait for Andy!" Grandmama replied, yanking blankets out of a cupboard. Daisy had gone into labor around one o'clock this morning, she'd waxed over the previous night, and Grandmama hadn't been expecting her to birth so soon.

We didn't have any of the equipment that the vet's had, only tail wrap, to keep her tail out of the mess, and a Mountain Dew bottle with a nipple over it. That was for when the baby was born; Grandmama always fed them first. Though she'd only delivered a couple foals herself, she'd grown up watching her daddy do it. My great grandpa Joe, who died before I was born, made a living out of it. Grandmama had learned every trick there was from him.

But now, her nervous and bewildered face made it seem as though was her first time delivering a colt. Grandmama came over to me, snatched the phone out of my hand and threw it on the bed. "Now c'mon, we've gotta' get this horse comfortable 'fore somethin' happens t'that baby!"

"But Grandmama... what about Andy?" I asked, following her out the door. We needed Andy here, he was the only muscular one out of the three of us.

She stopped for a millisecond and then pointed towards the parked four-wheeler. "You take this ova' t'Andy's and _drag_ _'is ass _outta' bed. Ya' and I can't lift no foal."

Grandmama didn't usually cuss, only when she was really upset. I did as she asked, not wanting to upset her further. But by the time I pulled up Andy's driveway, he was jogging out of the house. "Get on!" I commanded and threw the four-wheeler into reverse. As we roared down Grandma's long gravel road, Andy screamed above the engine, "Sorry I didn't answer. I was'a takin' a shower."

"At three in the morning?" I called back, then cut the key and swung off of the bulky machine.

"Naomi was ova'," Andy explained, with an apologetic smile. It took me a moment to understand, but when I did, I made a face of disgust. She'd gotten over the whole _almost being raped by college guys _incident apparently, and was now back to sneaking into Andy's in the early morning.

"I didn't see her car there," I commented, stopping for a moment.

Andy nodded, "She didn't drive. I picked 'er up."

My eyebrow shot up in surprise, "So does that mean she's still there?"

Andy smiled, "Yes Peyton Maye. She's sleepin'." _Good thing he didn't bring her, _I thought to myself. _That would have been fun… _Then I frowned.

We stood there for a moment, staring at each other, before we heard my grandmama scream, "What are ya'll doin'? _Get down here, NOW_!"

We glanced at each other again and sprinted down to the barn. In the back stall, where I'd found Ace my first day back, Daisy lay twisting on the ground. Grandmama was fluttering about her, trying to soothe the agonized mare. "The baby's twisted," Grandmama cried, horrified. Then she pointed at Andy, "You're gonna' have t'pull th'feet straight. She won't be able t'foal if ya' don't! She'll _die!_" Grandmama's face was terrified. My heart beat quickened.

Andy's eyes widened, "Uh..." he stammered."I don't think I can do that."

"You're going to have to, Andy," I insisted. The nervous energy in the air was infectious. If Grandmama said that's what had to be done, then it needed to be _done._

Andy looked between the sweating, frantic mare and I, his head swiveling back and forth. Then he met my grandmama's eyes, who ripped down into his. "I would do it, but I'd pull my hip. You're the only one strong enough," she said in domineering voice. He gulped audibly, and teetered behind the mare. "Now," Grandma instructed. "You're gonna' have t'pull the hooves down and parallel to the mare's tail." I couldn't see if Andy followed her instructions, but I heard the mare groan. The smell of blood filled the air and my stomach rolled.

"Do something Grandmama!" I cried, watching as the mare twisted onto her other side. Her eyes were wild and glazed over. I could hear her audible gasps as she moaned in pain. Tears pricked my eyes; the mare was _dying_.

"The baby can't breathe!" She whispered fiercely, the fear in her eyes was strong. Andy dropped to his knees and gripped the hooves again. With a grunt, he turned the legs sharply. Grandmama smiled briefly, mostly to herself. I assumed that meant that Andy was doing something right. With a slick _pop_, the foal's snout appeared. It was followed by the ears, then the shoulder; until, the foal fell directly into Andy's lap. He chuckled and all three of us sighed. Andy pulled the foal up, setting the thing onto its skinny legs. But the foal's wobbly legs wouldn't support it, and it hobbled around for a moment.

Daisy rose, breaking the umbilical cord, and began to lick away the sticky mucus on the foal's back. The tiny thing collapsed onto its belly and all three of us laughed. "It's a beauty, alright," Grandma confirmed. "I'm gonna' run up t'the house and get some milk for it."

As her booted footsteps grew fainter, and I glanced at Andy. "Congratulations," he whispered. "It's a girl." His voice was quiet and I smiled, staring down at the colt.

"She's a pretty little thing," I agreed, then bumped him gently on the arm with my elbow. "How'd you know what to do?" I remembered Andy's face of determination as the fear evaporated from his features. He was so calm, while Grandmama and I were panicking.

"Whatcha' mean?" He asked.

"You delivered that foal, and you saved Daisy's life," I said, gesturing to his stained and slimy tee shirt. He followed my gaze and sighed, stripping off the white tee. Underneath, his perfectly muscled chest glistened with a sweaty sheen. I had to force myself to look back at the foal and not stare. As much as I didn't want to admit, Andy was very attractive. And the urge to slide a hand down his chest was strong, but I grinned, remembering _whose _chest it was. The foal was nuzzling up against the mare, and Daisy lovingly nudged it back with her nose.

Andy placed an arm around my shoulder, and pulled me into a hug. "I think we should name it Peyton Maye," he whispered into my hair.

I shoved back against him, laughing. "Why? That's kind of a silly name, don't you think?"

"No," he argued. "I like that name." I blushed at his words and Andy continued, "But alright... how 'bout Sparky?"

"No, that's bad."

"Daisy Junior?"

I chuckled, "Negative, how about Anne?"

"I don't think so," he replied. "Regina?"

"_What_?" I laughed, feeling bad for Andy's future kids. Poor things were going to have the oddest names in the world. "You're not very good at this naming process, Andy."

"I am a guy," Andy said, defensively. "You're not too great yourself… y'know. Anne? Who names a horse that? What else ya' got?"

I pondered his question for a moment, staring at the small horse. Five minutes ago, its life hung in the balance and now, watching it hobble around, was precious. _Andy did that, _I told myself. _Andy saved its life_. Turning to stare at Andy, I was filled with such an odd feeling— I wanted to _kiss _him again. I wanted to be in his arms. I was so _proud _of him.

He met my gaze and I shook my head, remembering Naomi and Brandon and the past _two _years. "Well?" Andy's voice was flirtatious.

I smiled, "I got nothing."

"_Vida_," Grandmama's voice came from behind us.

"_What?"_ Andy and I both called back. _Vida? _

"The name of that horse… _Vida— _it means 'life' in Spanish," Grandmama explained. "When I met your grandfather, that's what he would call me."

"Aww," I sighed. "That's precious." Grandmama never spoke of Grandpa Joe, but from what she did say, I imagined that they'd been very much in love. There so much love in this tiny town: Grandmama and Grandpa Joe, Millie and Charlie, my mom and dad… even Andy and Naomi. How was it, that in a town so small, love was everywhere?

"Vida," I sighed. "_Vee-da_... Such a unique name."

"She's th'first foal I've delivered since your granddaddy died," Grandmama whispered, slipping the bottle into the foal's mouth. It sucked hungrily, and the sound echoed throughout the barn.

Andy yawned and pulled me closer, involuntarily. I shivered from a chill, even though it was summer. How was he shirtless and still so warm? "Are ya' cold?" Andy asked me, chaffing my arm in an attempt to warm me.

"Nah," I replied. "Just kind of tired." I leaned against him and his warmth, smiling. Grandmama rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the foal.

"I'd imagine," she whispered, not looking at Andy or me. "Ya'll can go on back t'bed. I'll clean up here."

"Are ya' sure?" Andy asked. "We can help…"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, shooing us away with a dismissive wave. I frowned, and I saw Grandmama wipe something from her face. _Was she crying? _I watched her, silently. _She was crying over Grandpa Joe... She missed him. _

Andy nudged me with his elbow; he noticed it, too. I nodded. "Grandmama, what's wrong?"

Her head shot up, and I could see the sheen from her tears glisten on her cheek. But she shook her head and gave me a small smile, "Just thinkin' 'bout your granddaddy, that's all. Really, ya'll needta' get some sleep. Go on, now."

I was going to say more, but Andy gently tugged me away by the elbow. I nodded solemnly, watching as Grandmama stroked Daisy's mane. "C'mon Peyton Maye," Andy encouraged softly. I let him lead me out into the early morning dark. The warm night seemed _soft _somehow. The subtle heat stroked my face like a feather, and the slight breeze cradled me in its humid arms. Stars above twinkled like a thousand diamonds; it was so pretty.

"I don't want to go to bed," I told Andy. "Can we go to the creek?"

Andy looked at me and nodded, turning to unlatch the gate for me. Moments later, I plopped down on the grass next to the trickling stream and sighed. Andy joined me, sitting an inch from my side. He still didn't have a shirt on. "Aren't you cold?" I asked him, running a finger down his bicep. Goosebumps marked my path.

"Nah," Andy shrugged. "Not really…" I blushed, that meant the goosebumps were from my touch. He turned towards me, crossing his legs Indian-style.

"What?" I asked, feeling his gaze on my face.

"I need t'know somethin', Peyton Maye. And I need ya' t'be honest with me…" he whispered, so quietly, that he blended with the darkness.

"Of course," I sighed, smiling. I was staring at the water, watching as it danced and swayed over the rocks. "Anything…"

"Why did ya' leave? Why did ya' leave me?" he was so serious, that I shivered. But the question sent a hundred emotions running through me. There were so many reasons why I'd gone to North Carolina— both simple and complex. And Andy knew part of them, while others I'd kept from him.

"I was going with my mom; I couldn't abandon her," this was the biggest reason. It was also the most simple; there was no thought involved. I wasn't going to leave my mom; everyone else had. We needed each other because we were all each other had.

"No," Andy contradicted. "That's not th'real reason…"

"It's one of them," I defended.

"Peyton Maye, please. I've been waitin' _two _years t'know. Don't lie t'me."

"I'm not lyi—" I tried to say, but Andy held up a hand. "Fine… I needed a change. I needed to get away from this place. Just like you said, there were _expectations. _I was supposed to be the _country _girl. I was supposed to be this person I didn't want to be; so I left."

All my life, before Raleigh, I was thought of as the _hometown _girl. I'd never be more than this town let me. I'd get married, most likely to Andy, and have a couple kids. I'd stay at home and be nothing. It wasn't only because that's what was _expected _in this town, it was because I hadn't known _how _to be _more._ And in fear, I ran. I ran to escape and to learn how to be _myself_— how to be _Peyton_, not just _Peyton Maye. _

Andy stared at me, frowning. "There's more… I can see it in your face."

I sighed, unlocking a door that I'd stood fast in front of for the past 800 something days. "There's one other reason Andy… a very childish, very immature reason."

"What is it?" He asked.

_Could I tell him? Could I share this little hope that I'd clung to for the past two years. _"I wanted you…" I paused, my mouth hanging open as I waited for the words to come.

"What?" Andy demanded. "What did ya' want?"

"I wanted you to come after me." I whispered. "I wanted, more than anything, for you to meet at the airport and not let me go. I wanted you to tell me that you couldn't bear to be without me; I wanted you to say that you couldn't _imagine _living without me. And then, when you didn't come, I wanted you to meet me in Raleigh. I wanted you to be there, sitting on my front step. I wanted you to pull me into your arms and say that you were taking me back with you. And you didn't. But I was waiting; _I was always waiting for you_. In the back of my mind, you would come. Maybe not that day, but tomorrow, or the day after, or the month, or maybe six months after. But you could come eventually. That's why I left, so that you would follow. Because I wanted you to show me that I was more than just _your sweetheart. _That you were with me for _me._"

"Why would ya' think I wasn't?" Andy asked, shocked.

"Because we were meant to end up together, and I knew that _you _knew that. And I thought that maybe, deep down, that's the only reason you were with me. And so, if I left and you followed, you'd prove me wrong."

"I didn't know…" Andy mumbled. "I neva' knew that ya' wanted me t'come afta' ya'. Ya' coulda' told me."

"No," I whispered. "You were just supposed to… _know_." I thought of all the nights I'd spent waiting for Andy. I thought of all the days I'd checked for his letters or himself, standing in my front driveway. I remembered telling myself, _He'll come, Peyton. He has to. _

But he never did. Andy never showed. And so I moved on; I found comfort in Brandon. I threw myself into loving Brandon so I could forget the fact that Andy _never _came after me.

"Ya' couldn't just _expect _me t'know somethin' like that, Peyton Maye," Andy was saying, desperately trying to control his temper.

I looked at his face, and smiled, placing my hand over his. "It's okay, now," I soothed. "It's over now."

"_No!" _Andy disagreed. "If I'd have known, don't ya' think that I woulda' run afta' ya'? I woulda' found some way t'find ya'! Peyton Maye, I woulda' chased ya' t'th'ends of th'earth! I woulda' neva' let ya' go! If only I had known!"

I stared at Andy, watching him shake his head. "But you wouldn't have Naomi," I reminded him. His words seemed wrong. He wouldn't have _Naomi_, the girl he was _crazy _about. He wasn't remembering all the good that had come out of our separation. He was just dwelling on the bad. "So many things have changed, Andy. You have grown and changed and learned so much. You wouldn't have any of that if I'd stayed."

"But I woulda' had _you._" he whispered and my jaw hit the floor.

I stood, "I have to go." I couldn't talk about this anymore. Before I could take a step forward, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion crashed over me, causing me to sway and stagger sideways. I blinked twice, but the whole ground shifted below my feet. Andy's arm wrapped around my waist and he gently lifted me off my feet. _He was carrying me back, _I realized. _Why?_

"Stop..." I tried to protest as he carried me into the house. But he shook his head and pulled me tighter. Without a word, he laid me on my bed and began to gently pull my shoes off. I rolled onto my side and gave him a small smile. _You should have really come after me, _I thought. He would have saved me so much heartache, over him and Brandon.

"Ya' shoulda' told me, and I neva' woulda' let ya' go again," Andy whispered and I blushed. Had I said that aloud? He stared at me for a moment, and I watched him, basked in the moonlight. "I wish ya' neva' would have left," I thought I heard him mumble. But I was so tired, that I wasn't sure, maybe I was _dreaming._ Silently, he left as if he were a ghost.

I fell asleep that night with thoughts of new life and beauty on my mind, picturing Vida frolic about in the fields. The thought of her small head flying freely back and forth set a smile on my lips. Then, I thought of Andy and I pictured him at the airport. "Don't go," he'd say. "Don't leave me."

"I'm going anywhere," I said to the Andy in my head, as I gently nodded off into unconsciousness.

The next morning I awoke to the sun streaming in through the blinds and the smell of bacon hanging heavy in the air. Grandmama's soft voice was humming some song and as I rolled out of bed, I heard her throw in a few lyrics. She didn't know half of them, and she hummed a few words. I chuckled softly, padding to the window.

My mind wandered for a moment, back to the previous night. I thought of Andy's gentle touch and how sweet it was that he'd carried me to bed. I also remembered our conversation and I blushed. _What if Andy had stopped you? _I thought. _What would you be like today? _

I wouldn't have Brandon. I nodded, to myself. _I wouldn't have Brandon. _I didn't think I could live without him. I still hadn't heard from him and I frowned briefly. _Why wasn't he calling me? _I shook my head, and peered through the blinds. The sun was bright and the sky was cloudless— the _perfect_ summer day. I could hear the birds singing and a horse whinny loudly. _Time to face the day, _I thought happily.

"Good morning," I said, strolling out into the kitchen.

"Hmm?" Grandmama sang, turning to see me. "Oh," she greeted me, with a smile and wave of her spatula. "Mornin' dawlin', how'd ya' sleep?"

"Good," I replied, rubbing my head. "You?"

She laughed, "Quite well, actually. I feel fit as a fiddle." Her bright mood seemed marred by the deep circles under her eyes.

"Grandmama..." I chided. "Did you actually sleep last night?"

With a bow of her head, she responded softly, "No."

"Why?" I asked, sliding into a chair at the table. Grandmama set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me, but remained silent. "Well?" I sighed, shoveling food onto my plate.

She sighed, and then set down with her own cup of coffee. "I spent th'night with th'foal. I was worried that it may be sick..."

"You're lying," I whispered. "That foal was fine… What about those tears running down your face last night? Did _those _have something to do with this insomnia?"

"Fine..." Grandmama huffed. "I spent th'night thinkin' 'bout your granddaddy."

"Aww, Grandmama. I'm sorry," I sighed.

"Don't be, child." she replied happily. "There are just some nights that are harder than others… Did ya' know yesterday was his birthday?"

"What?" I asked. Why had she not told me?

"Yeah… that's why I was'a so sad. I was just rememberin' th'ol'grump." She laughed.

Before I could say anything else, the phone gave a shrill ring. "I got it," I said, jumping up. "Hello?"

"Peyton Maye?" Arlene's voice asked breathlessly.

"Yes..." I drew out the word, confused as to why she was so cheering this morning. Maybe she'd looked outside, too.

"Hey!" She cried. "I have a question."

"Shoot," I replied uneasily. Whenever Arlene said something like that, it usually meant that she was scheming about something.

"The gang's all goin' up to Eagle's Nest for the week. And we wanted t'know if ya' wanted t'come." Eagle's Nest was a series of mountainous riding trails that all the teenagers went to… _together_. It was a beautiful place about an hour away, and I'd always had a lot of fun there. But I wasn't in the mood for a _week _of nonstop riding. I really just wanted to spend the week relaxing with the farm and Vida.

"Tell her it's not an option!" I heard Millie cry, laughing, in the background. "She's coming!"

"I got to ask Grandmama," I replied, but when I looked back at Grandmama, she was nodding. "You knew about this?" I asked her. Grandmama rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee.

"She's comin'!" Arlene shouted joyfully, I assumed to, Millie because I heard her cheer, too.

"Alright, Alright... Relax." I smiled, even though I really didn't want to go. Deep down, I _was _a little bit excited. It did mean _no _work for an entire week. "Who else is coming?"

"Just th'usual: Tommy, Charlie, Millie, Sandra, Millie, Andy and me. And now you!"

"Andy's coming?" I asked, remembering his face in the moonlight.

"Is that a problem?" Arlene pressed. But I could hear the sly connotation in her voice. "Or are ya' happy that he's a'comin'?"

"I really don't care either way, Arlene." I shot back, chuckling.

"Whateva' ya' say..." She didn't buy it, and I looked over to see Grandmama laugh. I stuck my tongue out at her. Arlene cleared her throat, "But yeah, that's it."

"No Naomi?" I pressed. The thought of Naomi made me frown. I _really _didn't want to spend an entire _week _with her.

"Of course not!" She scoffed.

"Don't say that... she's Andy's girlfriend." I warned, smiling. _We are all so evil_, I thought. We don't want someone whose important to Andy to come, that was being bad friends.

"I don't care if she's th'president of Mexico! I don't like her at _all_!" Arlene shot back. I laughed.

"Oh hush..." I chided. "That makes me happy, though. I do have to admit."

Arlene chuckled, "So we'll be there at five today, and you'd betta' be ready!"

"Okay, see you then!" I called over her excited chatter to Millie, and then hung up the phone.

"You'd betta' get packin' Peyton Maye. Looks like you've got a big week ahead a'ya'." Grandmama giggled.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm going." I sighed, trudging off back into my bedroom. I was only pretending, and the excitement in me was finally bubbling over.

It was going to be an entire week with friends. We'd spend the days riding and the nights laughing over a campfire. This week was going to be _great._

The sun was still streaming in, but for some reason, it seemed much brighter. In fact, _everything _seemed so much prettier. Maybe my excitement was getting the best of me, or maybe it was the fact that Naomi wasn't coming. Whatever it was, I felt like dancing. And I did… around and around until I was so dizzy that I fell, laughing, onto the bed.


	15. Chapter 15

"Guys... you've _got _to be kidding me!" I cried in disbelief as we parked Charlie's brand new truck, which he'd bought the previous week. The new coat of red paint reflected off of the gravel road, illuminating the spectacular vehicle— it still smelled like a new car.

In front of us, stood a small two-story cottage. It was all wood, probably pine or cherry, and had a small wrap-around porch painted white. The forest green shutters matched the surrounding trees and the small protruding chimney was gray stone. It looked so quaint, almost like it was plucked from a storybook. I expected a band of singing dwarves to suddenly appear, but only a flock of crows emerged from the woods that enveloped us. They were lush with _green— _as everything was in the peak of summer. Every tree imaginable could probably be found out here. And because we were so far up in the mountains, the heat wasn't all that bad. It wasn't cool, but it definitely wasn't scorching.

The gravel road we'd just driven down was long and windy, and stretched for miles back here. There was no one around us; the closest cabin was at least twenty minutes away, which for a group of teenagers, was _perfect_. I chuckled to myself as I thought of the upcoming week. I couldn't begin to _guess_ what kind of rowdiness we'd encounter— or make ourselves.

Being pulled behind Charlie's truck, were all the horses. How we managed to fit all six of them in the trailer was a mystery, but luckily, it hadn't been that big of a struggle. Audible whinnies and snorts floated through the air as they stomped impatiently, ready for a good stretch and run.

"There's no way that _this _is where we're staying," I continued to gush, turning back to Millie.

"Nope," she declared, happily. "It's ours for the week. My dad said it was cool..." She produced a small gold key as proof, dangling it playfully in the air. "Of course, if we trash the place, then we're screwed!"

Charlie laughed beside her, and I caught his eyes dart to hers. She bit her lip to hide a smile, and I realized that they must have some similar story between them. Millie and Charlie were very tight-lipped about their relationship. I'd only seen them together once— but the memory of the pig picking was still hazy from my fainting spell. However, they'd held hands the entire way down here and joked flirtatiously for hours. They seemed perfect together.

Their energy together was a bit awkward at first, because they'd be the only _couple_ this week. The rest of us were single, and having to watch the two hold hands or steal kisses was a bit uncomfortable because we all felt like we were intruding on their time alone. I, however, understood Millie's obliviousness to us as she cuddled closer into Charlie's side.

She didn't care if the entire _world _saw— she was in love. And nothing was going to bring her down off that high. I looked over my shoulder at Andy and smiled; recognizing that he'd just been thinking the same thing.

"But we normally stay in a tent, don't we? When did this cottage suddenly pop up?" I asked, still confused but not liking the pause. The gang had only been up here a couple times before, as a whole. On separate occasions, two or three of us spent a weekend up here. However, whoever, and _however_ many, of us came, I remembered _distinctly _sleeping in a tent. And I also remembered the awful back pain it'd given me.

"When do ya' think it was built?" Andy asked, dubiously, from behind me. Arlene, Tommy and Andy were crammed together in the back seat, while Millie and I were comfortable next to Charlie up front.

The ride up had consisted much of Andy and Tommy playing tricks on Arlene. Once, she'd nodded off onto Tommy's shoulder for a couple of minutes. However, it was long enough that Andy managed to doodle on the left side of her face. I turned to smile at her now, and had to stifle a grin when I noticed a huge… _extremity_ covering her left cheek. She caught me, and stuck her tongue out.

"Of course," I sighed, rolling my eyes and turning back around. _When I was gone... Jesus, that gets old. What else happened while I was gone? Did Big Foot come out for a party, too?_ I frowned at the thought.

"Guys, I'm real sad that Sandra said she can't come," Arlene pouted, changing the subject. We all laughed at how the moving muscles in her face made the doodle dance about on her cheek.

"She's not!" Millie laughed. "A week in Cancun with that college boy of hers, _ha! _There's no way that she'd have come with us and pass that up."

"Still... it don't feel right without her." Arlene sighed.

Andy shot me a look that I pretended to miss. Apparently, Naomi had told Andy _everything _about mine and her's lunch _excursion _with the college boys. I shuddered as I pictured Ron's face in my mind and the boys he'd been with. In the rear view mirror, I could see Andy's jaw clench reflexively— something he always did when he was angry. The truck grew quiet for a moment. However, this silence was not out of confusion, but awkwardness. I knew that Arlene and Millie sensed Andy and I were hiding something and Millie stole a glance my way.

When Arlene had announced that Sandra wasn't coming before we left, Andy frowned, muttering something about Ron. I'd understood, unlike the rest of them, but refused to elaborate on it. Arlene had asked me about it when we'd stopped on the drive up here, but I'd kept quiet. Now, the two girls were suspicious and pursed their lips, glancing between Andy, who was fuming, and myself, as I sat watching him.

"C'mon," Tommy said, patting his sister on the shoulder. I was glad, suddenly, that Tommy had come. He was always the icebreaker of the group, because he was afraid of nothing and always knew what to say. "I don't want t'spend the week in this truck, and besides... th'horses need a good stretch. Who's up fer' a ride?" Charlie grinned excitedly and Andy agreed, although not enthusiastic. _Poor boy, _I thought to myself. _All he can think about is Naomi._

"I'm goin' t'take a shower," Arlene argued, undoing her seat belt and sliding out of the car. "I feel gross and want t'get this _stupid _thing off my face."

"Yeah, I'm not up for anything right now," I agreed. I really didn't want to be on a ride _alone _with three boys. All they'd talk about were girls and _fart_. I'd be considered the dead weight. Millie just laughed and kissed Charlie on the cheek. She wasn't going either.

The boys took the horses down to the barn, while us girls carried the things up to the house.

The inside was even _more_ like a fairy tale. The stone floor was accented by the wood paneling on every wall. To the right, there was a massive fireplace. The mahogany furniture was dusty enough that it gleamed in the sunlight filtering in through the windows. There was no television, and no radio. I assumed, hopefully, that we had plumbing; Millie assured me that we did. Everything seemed perfect for the week, except for one minor thing.

There were only three rooms. Two on the bottom floor, and one up a rickety staircase.

"Guys..." I asked, peering out through the master bedroom door. I was trying to calculate the sleeping arrangements, to no prevail.

"Yeah?" Millie and Arlene called.

"There are only three rooms..." I explained.

"Nice note, Captain Obvious," Millie replied, pulling a sheet off the couch. A cloud of dust fluttered up into the sun light.

"Uh?" I pressed, walking out into the kitchen which was connected to the living room.

"Uh what?" she said, laughing. Her back was towards me so she couldn't see the dirty look I shot her.

"_How _are we going to manage _that?_" I cried, moving to help her wrangle a suitcase through the door.

"Simple," she replied. "Me and Charlie in one room, the master _of course_."

"Uh huh..." I nodded. That was one room down, four people left.

"Arlene and Tommy in another..." Two rooms gone and only two people left. _Oh no... _I bit my lip, dreading the next words that would come out her mouth.

"And... You and Andy in the last room; that one up _there_, in fact." She said, pointing to the only room on the second story.

"Millie," I sighed, shaking my head. "_Really?" _

"What?" Arlene demanded, sliding an arm around my shoulder. I hadn't heard her come up behind me, and I jumped.

"Andy and I in the _same _room?" I whispered. "Guys, I don't think that'll work." He was sleeping on the floor, I'd decided already.

"Peyton Maye." Arlene said, seriously. "It's not_ that_ big of a deal. Ya' and Andy will be fine. In fact, _he's _th'one who picked out th'arrangements_._"

"Huh?" I asked.

"Yeah, Millie told all of us 'bout comin' up here when we found out ya' was'a comin' down. And Andy said that he thought it would be best if ya'll two stayed in th'same room. 'Course, we all thought it was because he was gonna' sweet talk ya' inta' lovin' him again."

I gave a hard laugh.

"Yeah... Then we found out 'bout Naomi. And so Millie and I think it's just because he don't wanna' sleep in th'same bed as Tommy."

"Why couldn't you and Andy sleep in the same room? And me and Tommy?"

"_Because_... we're all still hopin' that ya'll end up back togetha'. Maybe this week'll do ya' some good!" Arlene said with a wicked smile.

"_No... _You really don't think that, do you?" I asked.

"Course we do," she laughed. "Because we _love _ya'll so _much._" Arlene was evil… rotten to her very core. I gritted my teeth, prepared to tackle her.

"No, Peyton Maye, we don't," Mille interjected. "But we're not going to switch up rooms. So you're just going to have to deal with it."

"When I shove him down the stairs, it's going to be all your faults!" I warned, grabbing the straps of my bag angrily.

Arlene blew me a kiss and pranced off into the other room; Millie just rolled her eyes. I trudged up the stairs and threw myself, and my bag, on the bed. The sun's rays fell across me, showering me in a golden light. I stared through the window, directly into the brightness, trying not to blink. It was something I'd done as a child; not for any particular reason, just to see how long I could last. It only took me 14 seconds, which I counted, to blink, and I was blinded for the next few moments. All I could see, behind my closed lids, was a bright ball of light. The image of the sun was burned into my retinas. Not permanently, I realized as the ball of light dimmed and then faded into black. _Not like some other images, _I thought.

One image in particular appeared, one that _was _seared into my memory. For a moment, I let myself think of Brandon. But, surprisingly, I wasn't picturing him cheating on me. That image was also unforgettable, but the one I saw now was one of a happier day.

Behind my closed lids, Brandon was smiling, his brown hair hanging over his eyes. It was the day, I remembered, that I'd realized _how _crazy I was about him. We were just friends then, and Brandon was dating another girl, but it hadn't mattered. I now stared at Brandon's beaming face, his emerald eyes warm and liquid. The sun was behind his head and illuminated his profile like an angel's. I couldn't hear anything he was saying but I knew exactly where we were in the memory.

It was a Tuesday, sometime in August. The air was warm and Raleigh city lights were beginning to flicker on as the sun set. Brandon and I were sharing a sundae, fighting over the last bite. The image of Brandon before me was the moment I'd looked up at him. His face— _his perfection_— had knocked me breathless. He was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. _I love him_, I whispered to myself in shock. It was the first time I'd said _I love _anything since Andy. And in that moment, Andy meant _nothing_. That was the moment I locked Andy away in a corner of my heart and threw the key out the window. It was also the moment that I realized _I had to have _Brandon. He was the unobtainable get that I was determined to have. I would cherish that striking moment forever. Then, slowly, the image faded and again, I only saw black. With a sigh, I opened my eyes and blinked through the brightness of the room.

Chuckling to myself and rolling over, I breathed in the musky scent from the sheets. They smelled of summer, green grass and sunshine, and like no one had laid there for months. I flipped back over, and surveyed the room. It was small and cozy, but big enough for a dresser, mirror and a door that led to, what I presumed was, a bathroom. There was one wide window next to the bed that illuminated the entire room. The view consisted of the front yard, where Charlie's truck was parked, the surrounding woods and a few mountain peaks in the distant horizon.

I stood up, and peered closer out the window. To the far left, I could see the boys climbing on their horses. Before they disappeared into the woods, I saw Charlie gallop back towards the house. Andy and Tommy took off, leaving him behind, but Charlie didn't notice. Millie was standing beside a huge maple, where she'd come out to meet him. Charlie swung himself off his horse, took two strides, and caught her up into his arms. She laughed as he twirled her around, before easing out of his embrace. I saw her hand him the jacket she had in her arms and help him slide into it. Charlie hugged her, kissed her and ran to get back on his horse, before galloping out after the other two boys.

Two seconds later, I heard the front door open and Millie reenter. I couldn't peel my eyes away from the window, even though no one was out in the yard. _Love…_ I thought. _That's what love is. It's helping your boyfriend into a jacket. It's holding his hand in the car. Love is laughter and smiles. Love is feeling wanted. Love… love is everything. _Mille and Charlie_ had_ everything; they had each other, and happiness. I let out the breath I was holding, watching as it condensed against the window. Then, with tentative fingers, I drew a heart with my finger.

It faded a moment later. _Just like the image of Brandon… just like Brandon's affections… just like how I'd faded from Andy's life; from _this_ life. _The thoughts made my head spin and I wiped away the heart, and the words in my head, with my hand.

As I went to put my toiletries into the bathroom, I pictured what I'd just witnessed. The two of them, Millie and Charlie, were so sweet together. They were _perfect_. _Had Andy and I looked like that to Millie two years ago? _I remembered what Arlene had said moments ago, about how she thought Andy and I would get back together. Then I thought of Brandon, and his smiling face. _Had Brandon and I looked like that… to _anyone_? _

_This_ thought of Brandon crippled me for a second. It was like my heart was a glass pane and Brandon's love was just an exhale. It was fading. _Fading… _With that, I was suddenly desperate to hear his voice, determined to prove myself wrong.

_We aren't _fading_… We aren't going anywhere, _I reassured myself. _But what if we are? What if I'd wiped away any remnants of us when I left? _My fear was irrational, I knew. I hadn't, based on his letter. But I hadn't heard from him _since _that letter. Maybe he'd thought about it, and decided that our love was more work than he wanted. And so maybe _he'd _given up. I thought of Mille in Charlie's arms, how sweet they'd been together. I would never have that with Brandon if I didn't _do _something, if I didn't _call _to make sure that he was still mine. I'd walked away from the one boy who would spin me around like that. I'd walked _away. _

And why?

Because I'd wanted to show him that cheating was unacceptable. I was being _prideful, _and I'd given up _Brandon _because of that pride.

My bag of toiletries was forgotten as I rushed back into the room, tearing open my bag to find my phone.

My head was swimming; my blood was pounding behind my ears. Was the room spinning? I had to talk to Brandon; I had to hear from him. _Now. _I needed him, in this moment, to tell me that it was _okay. _That he was still there, that _we _were still there. I clasped the sleek device and yanked it from the many pairs of jeans. Flipping the phone open, I realized that I should probably be alone when I called Brandon, for fear of a breakdown. If Millie and Arlene heard me crying, they would come to check on me.

I looked down at the tennis shoes I had on and bent to retie one of the laces, before checking through the window again, checking to see if the boys had returned. The yard was silent, and I smiled, ducking out of the room. My trot down the stairs caused Millie to peek her head out of from the master bedroom. "Where are you going?" she asked as I reached for the front door.

"On a walk," I said brusquely.

"Oh!" She replied, excitedly. "Can I come, too?" _That's the last thing I need, _I cried in my head.

"I was actually just going to go for a minute, just to get some fresh air. The room is really dusty upstairs, you know? We can go on a long walk together, only later..."

Millie narrowed her eyes. "So?" she challenged. "I'm cool with just stepping out, it beats unpacking."

Before I could reply, Arlene called from out back, "Millie? Can ya' come here? There's somethin' I need ya' t'see!"

Millie paused, torn between Arlene and her desire to go with me. I held my breath, hoping she would go. She looked once at me more, frowned, and then left without a further word. Thanking the gods, I shot out the front door, letting it slam behind me and jogged off to the right. I didn't want the boys, and especially Andy, to find me talking to Brandon, or worse, _sobbing. _That would spark a lot of _unwanted _questioning.

There was no trail that I could see, and I didn't want to get lost. So I tried to stay in the same direction as I walked, watching for unusual trees that I could use as markers if I did lose my way. However, it didn't take me long to find a tree that I could scamper up, and I tried to climb high enough where I could see the surrounding woods. There, perched on a thick oak branch, I dialed the number I knew best.

The first ring was short, and my breathing hitched. _I should hang up..._ I told myself. _This is irrational; he's probably busy. I can call later… _But I let it ring again, determined. I was shaking so hard that my teeth chattered. Again, it rang. _He's not there_, I thought dejectedly.

My eyes closed and a tear slid down my cheek as his answering machine picked up. "Hey guys, this is Brandon," just his voice made my insides ache. "Leave me a message." And just like that, something changed. Something deep within in me, broke loose, like a levy. And then… I was done.

_I love you, _I thought. _That's my message. I need you. I want you. I love you. Come get me, come pick me up off my feet. Smile again, so I can remember the boy I fell in love with. Because… right now, I can't remember. I can't picture that boy anymore. He's just a memory, a brief flicker, and then he fades. Please… please… don't fade away anymore. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of this, all of this. I don't want to be mad anymore. I just want to be in your arms. I had you, my impossible love, I had you. You were mine! _

And then I thought of something else. _Oh, and now what are you? _I continued, silently._ Not mine, you can't be! You're _hers_, aren't you? You love her now? You've left your mark on the window to _her _soul. _

Was he with her? I couldn't be sure, but anything was possible, wasn't it?

I didn't want to fight; I didn't want to be mad, either. I'd only run from Brandon, I saw now, to save my pride. _My foolish pride… _But that didn't matter now. None of it did. Right now, in this instant, I just wanted to be hugged. I just wanted to be loved… _loved by Brandon_. I was tired of being upset over him cheating. This was my white flag. I was giving up, because… being right; being the dumper rather than the one dumped wasn't worth it. If it meant losing the love of my life just so I could have a shred of dignity, then any amount of pride was worthless.

There was a beep and I said nothing. I didn't say any of the thoughts running through my head. I did _nothing_; I just sat there, listening to the space around me close and rush back like a rubber band snapping. My mind was dark, just like it'd been when Brandon's smiling face had disappeared from behind my eyes. It was dark because _Brandon _had disappeared from my life, I concluded.

Slowly I closed the phone and let my body sink against the tree trunk. Brandon wasn't there, and the heart I'd drawn earlier had cooled, and was no more.

Part of me suspected that he _was _with her, as I'd thought earlier. But the other part of me knew, _deep down_, that he wasn't.

And then suddenly, the phone vibrated.

My heart sped up, and I squeezed my eyes shut, so hard that they hurt, before carefully reopening the phone.

"Hello?" I whispered, my guard fully down. I was done being mad. In that instant, unlike any other, I was _done. _I didn't care what Brandon had done, and I was ready to tell him that. I opened my mouth to whisper _I love you_, when I was interrupted.

"Where are you?" the voice asked.

"Millie?" I replied, my heart dropping like a lead stone in a bucket of water. "Where I said I'd be… in the woods."

"I thought you said you'd only be gone for a minute," she retorted sourly.

"It only has been a minute," I replied, hollowly.

"No… it's been like an hour." _What? _I tried to track the time back, not thinking that I'd walked for very long. I must have, in my confusion. But the phone call had only taken a moment, hadn't it? I pulled the phone away from my ear and scrolled down through my outgoing calls list. There, right beneath Millie's number was Brandon's, marked with a single time duration: 48 minutes. _I'd left Brandon a 48 minute voicemail_. I'd sat there for almost an _hour._ The time span made my head spin. How had I not noticed?

I looked over my shoulder, shocked to see the sun had dipped over the horizon. It was getting dark, and the night would close in fast.

"I'm on my way back, I just got distracted."

"Alright," Millie breathed. "Bye."

I knew she was upset with me, but that she'd be fine by the time I got back to the house. Sitting there, letting my heart rate slow, my mind wandered back to Brandon. I wondered if he still thought about me, or if he had moved on to some fantastic summer romance. I pictured him, smiling down at me, and tried to imagine him in smiling that way to someone else.

As I counted, I realized that it'd only been a month since I'd last seen him. One month, nearly 30 days, without feeling his touch, or seeing his beautiful face. _How had I survived?_ _Why was I not still in such crippling agony? _I had laughed and smiled and seen beauty in those 30 days. And yes, while I thought about Brandon every day, at least _once _a day, if not more... I didn't really ever cry over leaving him, just those two days before I got on the plane.

Now, all those bottled up emotions rushed back. I guessed that, in my anger at Brandon's infidelity, I hadn't let myself grieve over leaving him. I had shoved everything back, refusing to be upset. _My stupid pride, _I thought. _It'd be the death of my love life. _

However, as distraught as I was over not being able to talk to, or be with Brandon, I wasn't crying anymore. I still wasn't feeling like my whole world was over.

And yet, when I'd left Andy two years ago... that's _all _I'd felt. I had cried for the next two months. Every day, I sobbed, wanting to be in his arms, just _longing _to be with him.

_What are you trying to do Peyton?_ I demanded in my head. _This is madness, stop comparing the two. They're different._

_But are they?_ I challenged. Were they so different? My love for Andy had been so unbreakable, and it'd been next to impossible to walk away. My love for Brandon had seemed the same way, and I'd let it slip through my fingers like sand. Was it because Brandon broke my heart where he'd cheated on me? It had to be that, _didn't it?_

I couldn't, _possibly_, have loved Brandon less. Could I?

There wasn't time for me to decide, because right then, the phone vibrated again.

"Millie... _I'm coming, _relax." I said, without even a hello.

"Peyton, is that you?" someone on the other side of the line whispered. I hoisted my white flag high and sucked in a breath.

_Oh my god... _"Brandon?"


	16. Chapter 16

There was silence for a moment, and I suddenly heard Brandon inhale sharply as if his thoughts had suddenly returned. He took a slower, deeper breath and then whispered into the phone, "How are you?"

_How am I? _I thought, smiling. _I'm hearing your voice! I'm fantastic! _My brain was doing back flips; here was Brandon, talking to _me_ on the phone. I wished he was here, so badly that it made my chest ache. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to stroke down his cheek or to lace my fingers through his hair. I wanted to see him smile, and hear him laugh. Or better yet, I wanted him to hold me, or just... _hug me_, once and if only for a moment. _But he isn't here_, I reminded myself. _He's back in Raleigh, practically a million miles away. _And the thought made my heart ache worse, like it was eroding.

"Peyton? Are you there?" Brandon pressed, speaking louder now. "Can you hear me?"

"I'm here," I said in a weak voice. _I'm here! _I screamed in my head, clutching the phone. _Come get me. _But I held my tongue. "And..." I cleared my throat, steadying myself. "I'm good... _alright_." I was going to tack on something about still coping with losing him, but I realized that that would be a lie. I wasn't still dealing with coming here and leaving him; in fact, other than a bit shaken from actually _talking _to him, I was fine. _That's a bad sign, right? _I asked myself. I shook the thought away, only trying to focus on Brandon's breathing, which had quickened considerably.

"That's good to hear." Brandon sounded like he was hearing really bad news. He was talking slow and soft, audible enough where I could easily hear him, but soft enough to hear the care in his voice. It made me smile at his gentleness.

"How are _you_?" I asked him in return.

"I'd be a lot better if you were here," he admitted. I gave a small chuckle, glad to hear him perk up just a bit. "I'm sorry I didn't get your call on the first time, I actually just got back. I literally... _just_ walked through the door. And then... when I saw that it was _actually _you, all I could do was stare at the phone. I have to admit, I looked like an idiot. My jaw nearly hit the floor."

"From where?" I asked, but laughing at his shock. If I remembered correctly, he didn't tell me about any vacations or trips he had planned. And I wondered, briefly, if he had joined his guy friends in a trip down to Myrtle Beach. Every year, a group of Brandon's friends, who he played on the Varsity soccer team with, headed down to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, to pick up college girls and get completely wasted for five days. Brandon had been invited, I did remember that much. The boy who asked him to go, Brock Thomas, and goalie on the team, was the first boyfriend I'd had in North Carolina. For four months, we'd dated until it ended badly after I'd confessed that I'd only been dating him to make Brandon jealous. It upset Brock so much that he didn't go out for the team that year, and they'd had to replace him with a freshman who didn't know his right hand from his left. Brandon and Brock hadn't spoken since then until Brock, very rudely, asked Brandon to go with them to Myrtle Beach.

Brandon refused, saying that he and I were spending the entire summer together. Of course, then he'd cheated on me... and the rest was history— very dramatic and sad history.

But now, because of all of this, I wondered if Brandon had changed his mind and if he'd _actually_ gone. For a moment, a flicker of anger trembled through me. _He wasn't upset over us not being together? He was holding himself together enough to go to the _beach_? And do who knows what? _But then, I realized that _I _had left. I'd come here and held myself together and so my thought was hypocritical.

"-ccer camp, and yeah," Brandon was saying.

"Oh... what?" I asked, trying to remember what else he'd said. My train of thought had distracted me for a moment.

"I went to soccer camp, Peyton. I've been gone for the past two weeks. The guys didn't go to Myrtle Beach; instead they went to that sleep away camp, Ridgemont. It's up near Boone, you know around the mountains."

_That's right... he always goes there! _I thought, sighing in relief. Every summer, Brandon went to soccer camp. The location changed every year, but still, _he went_. He said that it was just a tradition for him; he didn't necessarily _need _the skill. He just loved the camps. "Oh, yeah... Soccer camp," I laughed quietly. "Forgot about that."

"It helped, you know? To get my mind off of everything... off of you. I wasn't doing so well, as I'm sure you saw in my letter. _Or_— did you not get that yet?" He asked.

"I got it," I vowed, remembering the letter. Oh, _the letter._ It was still folded up in my suitcase, and I could nearly recite it by now.

"Good," he said. "I'm glad. The guilt, Peyton, that's what got me... Just knowing that you were sobbing and that your poor heart was broken. All of that killed me." _Except that I wasn't sobbing_, I disagreed in my head. _I was doing alright. _And for a moment, it bothered me that he would think I'd just _sit _around and cry over him. But I shook that feeling off, because I was sure that his thoughts were the _normal _reaction expected when a boyfriend cheats. Unlike me, who _runs _off to Kentucky and disappears.

"But I have to admit," he began after clearing his throat. "Even when I was sweating and dribbling balls up and down a field, doing sprints or long runs, _everything_... even through all the heat, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You're funny," I teased. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"But I'm serious," Brandon stressed. "You're up there, and you've got half my heart with you, Peyton."

"No..." I implored. "Please, don't go all romantic on me. Just... tell me how you are." I couldn't deal with the mushy stuff yet. I was getting there, and I knew that within minutes, I'd seem like I was quoting out of a romance novel. I could feel all of my emotions slowly building up, like when you mixed baking soda and vinegar. Slowly, it would build and build, until _boom_ and then no one would be able to hold it back. But, now, I wanted to keep things smooth and breezy, and pretend that _maybe _nothing had every happened. And that _maybe... _we could be _us _again. No cheating, no leaving... and _no _Andy. My white flag sailed high in the air and the blockades that I set up around my heart had crumbled. I was fully prepared to forgive Brandon, and I intended to. But first, I just… wanted to _forget_; even if it was just for a moment.

And so, Brandon launched into a story about his summer up till today, giving me details about soccer camp and how all of our friends back home were. My mind, for the _briefest _moment, wandered back to Andy. I thought back to the day that I'd kissed him, which was a very bad thing for me to do. But the more I thought about Andy... the more Brandon's face kept replacing his. Everything I'd done with Andy in these past few weeks: horseback riding, swimming, lunch with Naomi. Everything that was something Andy and I'd done together slowly became something Brandon and I _should've _done together. Except for the Naomi thing... that much could be forgotten entirely.

_I should be home_, I thought to myself. _I should be with Brandon, in _his _arms. Not kissing other boys... like Andy. _

Why was I thinking _so _much about Andy? _Ergh, stop! _I demanded, refusing to say _his_ name again. Every time I thought about Brandon, why did _he _have to be laced up along with it?

_Brandon, _I repeated. _Brandon, Brandon, Brandon! _Then I sighed, letting Brandon's voice lull me into relaxing.

I smiled, leaning back against the tree. The feelings in my heart, which had turned from a dull ache to a glowing radiance, resonated throughout me. Hearing his voice, my heart, old and dusty from the abuse it'd taken felt as if it were slowly starting to beat again. It was irregular and slow, as if feeling for a proper footing. But with every word he said, I felt it pick up speed. In the few words he'd spoken, I felt more alive than I had in the past month.

I realized, then, that I _had _thought about Brandon. Every second of every day, he was in my mind. Maybe not in the forefront, but he _was _there. Because... when you loved someone, they stayed there— _forever_. And even if he _had_ hurt me, even if he'd broken me _so _bad that I felt like there was no returning, I still loved him. And I still _needed _him. I loved Brandon, more than I loved life itself. And if I suddenly met my demise, right here, on this phone talking to _him,_ I'd die with a smile on my lips because I knew where my heart was.

Love didn't go away with time, or distance or any amount of betrayal. It was like a diamond, it may start off rough, but it ended up beautiful and unbreakable.

"I love you," I said suddenly. "I know I told you I didn't want to talk mush, but it's true. And I can't hide it anymore... I am _in _love with you. I _want _you. I _need _you." I had to pause to catch my breath before resuming. "I don't _care _anymore what you did. I don't _care _about anything! I just want to be with you, Brandon. I only _want _you."

"Peyton," he cried, and I heard him leap up. "Oh_ my Peyton_... I love you, too! That's _exactly _what I've been thinking for the past month. Every hour, every second... every _moment_ of _every _day— oh, my Peyton... _Come home_," he begged.

"I wish I could..." I admitted, resting my head against the tree, happy to hear that the feeling was mutual. "But I can't... I'm not even at home."

"Where are you, then?" Brandon demanded, sounding alarmed. "Are you—?"

"I'm fine," I assured him. "I'm just on a trip with some friends for the week. I'll be back by next Sunday." _Just one week_, I told myself. _And it now suddenly seems so long_. In my head, I began to make plans for my return. Obviously, I'd have to leave and go back to Brandon when we got back. _Or, _I thought with a smile. "How would you feel about coming up here? You could see where I grew up… and we could spend the summer under the stars." It would be perfect, and I could stop thinking about Andy and Naomi and everything else. I would have Brandon… and we would be happy. Just like we started, and how we'd be until the world ended— _forever._

"I'd love that," Brandon whispered into the phone. "I'll start making the arrangements now." His excitement was infectious; I felt like a five year old.

I listened as Brandon exhaled, and I could hear him scrubbing his cheeks with his hand. He always did that when he was thinking about something. "Can I ask you a question?" I said, trying to get him to keep talking.

But, there was also something that I just _had _to know.

"Of course," he replied.

"Why didn't you stop me?" My question was out of the blue, but in my epiphany about loving Brandon, I'd also realized that he'd never tried to stop me from leaving. The only time I'd _actually _heard from him were the voicemails and the letters. Other than that, it was _all _quiet on the Raleigh front.

The ache in my heart was back. _Because_, I told myself, thinking rationally, e_ven if I _did _love someone, someone like Brandon. That still didn't make him perfect... _

"From?"

"From leaving, silly," I replied. That ache in my heart rippled aggressively.

He wasn't expecting this, because he gave a loud sigh. "I don't know..." he said truthfully, but there was a definite _squirm_.

"Because..." I explained. "I know that _you _knew that I was leaving." In fact, I'd had my mother _casually_ slip his mom the hint when they met at the post office, as they had every morning since my mom and I had moved to Raleigh. I then received confirmation from my mom that Brandon's mother had gotten the message after a very long voicemail my mother received.

"I did," he admitted.

"And so why didn't you come after me?" I didn't feel so much like a five year old anymore. And the levies I'd taken down, began to rebuild themselves, brick by brick.

"I don't know, Peyton," Brandon said again. "I guess..." He gave another sigh. "I guess that I was convinced that you wouldn't _actually _leave. I thought that you would forgive me."

"You did? After _everything _you did?" I demanded, shocked.

"Peyton... c'mon. Do you really consider that such a _big _deal? Because... it's really not." His statement was short and snappy, and my jaw hit the floor. I honestly felt like I'd just been punched. When I'd thrown my surrender, part of me suspected that he'd be just as, if not _more_, apologetic then I was. I did _nothing _wrong. _He was the one who cheated on _me,I thought. _And he's saying it's not that big of a deal? _

"_Excuse me?_" I cried. "Not a _big _deal? Are you _serious?_"

"Don't fight with me," Brandon begged. "I didn't mean it like that... It's just that, well, you don't seem all that upset about all of this, and yet you're really defensive _now._ You've got to pick a side, Peyton. Are you sad about my mistake, or not?"

Before I speak, a door opened on Brandon's side of the phone. "_Brandon..." _A high-pitched voice whined. Horror washed over me, and I realized with a sickening turn that I hadn't managed to build up the blockades quick enough, leaving my heart open and vulnerable to the incoming attack. It was approaching fast; I couldn't stop it; it was moving in quickly… And then, the rushing behind my ears picked up to a wild howl, until I was so deaf that I couldn't hear myself say my next few words.

"Brandon?"

"Yeah?" he said, but I could hear him moving. He was leaving a room, and I heard the door shut behind him. I pulled myself out of panic mode, a nearly impossible task.

"Who was that?" I asked, more calmly.

"Uh... my _mom_." He replied.

"That was _not _your mother, Brandon," I said, my voice breaking twice. _He was lying to me... again_. _Oh my god, no! _His words were like bombs against my heart, exploding all around it, narrowly missing it every time. "That was _her_, wasn't it?"

"No!" Brandon disagreed hastily.

"_Brandon... come _back _to bed. I _need _you." _The same female voice said again. And just like that, the bomb hit its target and I felt my heart explode in a thousand different pieces. My white flag was_ white_ no longer… She'd repeated the same words that I'd said to him, right after I'd told him that I was _in _love with him. I felt like I'd been slapped, _hard._

"How dare you." I whispered, anger choking me.

"No, Peyton! It's not..." he tried to say. And the sense of déjà vu was overwhelming. _It's all happening again,_ I told myself in disbelief. _All _over_ again, he's doing this to me _again?

"You- You-!" I couldn't even get the words out because I was _so _mad. No insult could have covered the amount of _rage _flowing through my veins. Behind the front of anger, the tears were coming. And my heart, unrecognizable, throbbed so badly. My eyes began to brim over, and I could feel them running down my face.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Peyton... It's just that you aren't here-"

"And so you think it's okay to just _sleep _with the entire Raleigh area? What are you on now, the girl's basketball team? Because, I'm sure you've made your way through the cheerleaders. Or, excuse me, is it the same girl?"

He said nothing. For a moment, I thought he'd hung up. And then, I even debated hanging up. But I was in such a fit of _fury_ that I wanted to share this piece of my mind. "_How dare you!" _I cried, striking out against the tree. Tears blinded my vision and I couldn't think straight. "How _dare _you! After everything! And the letter... And the voicemails, and _this_. This... _I love you! _What a bunch of bull!" I wanted to scream, I wanted to _kill _him! I wanted to hurl something or to break something.

"I'm sorry," he said, so quietly that I could barely hear.

"Me, too! Because I actually believed you, _again! _How stupid _am _I? My god! You good for nothing, low-lying, stupid- argh! I HATE YOU!" I screamed. "I _HATE_ YOU! And you are _nothing _to me. I don't ever want to see your disgusting face again!" And then I slammed the phone shut and chucked it as far as I could. Instantly, I knew that was a mistake. I was in the _middle _of the woods, with no senses because they were masked by the sheer fury I felt coursing through me, and now I didn't have a phone.

And then, slowly climbing down from the tree, I crumpled at the base. I was so weak and so heart-broken, _again_. Brandon had cheated on me, _again. _I couldn't take it, the sorrow I felt was so overbearing that I literally felt as if I would combust from it.

_How could he do this to me? _I thought over and over to myself. As the tears suddenly flooded in, I went blank. My entire body shut down, saving me from a possible mental breakdown. I didn't think, just stared... stared and cried. They were broken sobs, loud and obnoxious. But they were all I had left in me. It was as if my heart was coming out, streaming down with my tears. Every shard and every sliver left was gone, leaving in its place, a hard and hollow area. I had no heart; I didn't _want _a heart... not anymore, not after _this. _What was love? I didn't know. I didn't _care. _My world was collapsing, and my heart was just the first to go.

_How could he do this to me?_ I repeated, begging to know the answer. _Why would he do this to me?_

Moments began to pass, and then slowly the sun began to fade. I continued sobbing, curling into a ball at the base of the tree. Then, faintly, I heard my name.

"Peyton Maye!" It called again.

_Go away_, I thought. _Just let me be..._

But then I heard footsteps, trekking through the forest. "Peyton Maye?" The voice asked. I recognized it, and I knew it well. _Oh the irony_, I whispered in my head.

And then I felt Andy kneel in front of me, "What is it?" His tone was dark and serious. His two strong hands wrapped themselves around the tops of my arms. "Peyton, are ya' hurt?"

I didn't respond.

"_Peyton Maye!" _Andy demanded, shaking me. "Are ya' hurt... did ya' fall? What th'_hell_ happened?"

But still, I didn't respond. Instead, I shook off his hands and uncrossed my arms from around my knees. Andy went to protest, but I shoved his arms aside and wrapped my arms around his chest, pulling myself tightly against him. He stiffened for a brief moment, before realizing that I was hugging him. Then two arms grabbed me back just as fiercely.

He didn't ask questions, just held me. And I continued to sob, harder and harder. Gently, Andy rocked me back and forth. The movement was enough that I began to lull off into a doze and only awoke when Andy pulled me onto his lap. There, he stroked my hair tenderly, keeping his grip on me vice tight.

I'd never felt so secure in my life. "Brandon..." I mumbled, sniffing loudly.

"Hmm?" Andy asked.

"Brandon..." I repeated. "He cheated on me, _again._" The words brought forth another wave of tears, and as I spoke them, I felt Andy stiffen against me.

I assumed that he was reacting with anger, as any normal friend would. "I'll kill th'bastard," he whispered under his breath.

"Not if _I _get to him first," I argued.

Andy chuckled, and then looked down at me. "How do ya' know, if I may inquire?"

"I called him," I replied, beginning to cry again. I couldn't talk anymore, the words just wouldn't come. And somehow, Andy sensed this. It was that telepathy thing we had; this was a crucial moment where I was glad it came into play. I simply couldn't answer anymore of his questions.

So instead, he just continued to hug me. I inhaled deep, smelling Andy's unique scent. It was hard thing to place, but I finally decided that it was a combination of horse and leather, and there was some summer thrown in there, too. I found myself pressing against him harder, trying to inhale as much as possible. I made it all the way up to the skin of this neck, right where the top of his faded gray tee shirt met his strong, muscular neck. The scent seemed to intensify here, and I continued to breathe all of Andy in that I could. Then... very quietly, I pressed my lips there.

There was dead silence for a moment, as I waited for Andy's reaction. _Why did you do that, Peyton? Not today... not ever. Don't do this to get back at Brandon. _Brandon's name brought a new ripple of pain to the surface and I sucked in sharply, trying to find my breath again.

Andy patted my back, and I froze. But Andy didn't seem to have noticed my kiss, and, for safe measures, I quickly moved back to his shoulder, trying to breathe as little as possible now.

"Take me home," I said, moments later. "I want to go to bed."

Andy nodded solemnly, and picked me up off the ground. Then he carried me home, not jarring me at all. It felt like I was floating, but I knew that it had to be a strain on Andy. I wasn't more than _maybe _125 pounds, and Andy was strong. But I'd walked a good deal into the woods and it wasn't everyday that Andy carried someone. Still, he seemed fine and before I knew it, he was kicking open the screen door to the house.

Millie, Arlene and Tommy jumped up from where they were sitting on the couch. Charlie appeared, also, from the master bedroom.

"Is she alright?" Millie was the first to demand.

Arlene jumped in, crying, "My god! Look at 'er! She's cryin'!"

"What happened?" Tommy cried, peering closer.

But Andy deflected all of these questions with a simple, "I'll explain later, now... I'm gonna' carry her up t'bed and I'll see ya'll in th'mornin'."

My head lagged to the side, and I realized how exhausted I was. I was drifting, slowly, in and out of consciousness. As Andy laid me down on the bed, I heard him mumble, "It's gonna' be alright. I'm here, and I'm not leavin' ya'. You just let it _all _out, ya' hear?"

_Was I still crying? _I asked. Yes, I was. There was still a continual stream of tears running down my face. Briefly, I imagined how terrible I must look. But Andy was still here, pulling off my shoes and tucking the sheet up around me. And then, pulling off his shirt and shoes, he slid in next to me.

There, he wrapped both arms around me and pulled me, once again, into his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself so tightly against him, that I couldn't move an inch. It was then, with an old flame and crying over a new love, that I slowly drifted off into sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

When I was a little girl, I used to have nightmares. They were so bad that I'd wake up screaming at the top of my lungs, in the middle of the night. At first, my mom wrote them off as a phase. She said that every child had bad dreams sometimes, and would always stroke my hair and whisper things to me until I went back to sleep. The sound of her voice was always soothing, even after my terrible dream. But when the nightmares started to affect my sleep, or lack thereof, my mom decided that it was time to do something about it.

I always thought that she just missed her _own _sleep, because she was awake every moment that I was in the night.

So she took me to a child therapist, who also specialized in sleep patterns of children, and I had to spend a Sunday afternoon telling some random person about the dreams that I had. As I sat there, relaying the events of my nightmares, I couldn't help but notice how the male therapist taking notes had shoes that were immaculately polished and hair that seemed unnaturally brown in such a late stage of life. When I met this man, he told me to call him Frank. That creeped me out a bit, seeing that I was only nine at the time.

But my nightmare surprised Frank because they were so much different than the rest of the children's he'd seen. My nightmares weren't full of sociopaths or crazed animals chasing after me; there were no clowns or spooky ghosts, either. In fact, there was nothing that jumped out at me at all. In my dream, there were two people: my dad and myself. The dream, which in reality spanned on for a couple of hours, was really only about ten minutes long in my mind.

I always found myself sitting in the same spot at the bottom of my former house's stairs. It was the same setting as the night my dad left, minus my mom and now, everything was black and white. Looking back, I realized that I always knew my dad was coming. I always knew, _every time_, that he'd push past me, shoving me aside with his knee as he clambered to escape the confines of the house. In the distance, I'd hear my mother sobbing, but she was never visible. Time would slow at this point in the nightmare, and everything would shift into slow motion. I would push myself up off the stairs, and move to follow my dad, who had disappeared through the door by now. But as I threw open the front door; I could only see the fleeing figure of my father. Unlike the actual events, my dad didn't get into a taxi. Instead, he ran down the street while lugging the suitcase behind him.

Every dream, I'd run out, chasing after him in a headlong sprint. But suddenly the street seemed to melt, like liquid butter beneath me, disabling me to move my feet fast enough to reach him. I'd slosh through the liquid streets, beginning to sob with exhaustion and despair, and yet— my father would continue to move forward. He was on solid ground, and he easily widened the gap between us.

Somewhere around this point, I'd realize that he wasn't coming back. And then, the screaming would commence because I couldn't escape that fact anymore. _He wasn't coming back. He didn't love me anymore. _In the daytime, when I was awake, I could pretend that it wasn't true. I could smile and say that he'd return, sweep me up into his arms, and I'd be his little princess.

But asleep, my mind knew _better_. And it continued to shove his departure into my face, over and over again.

Eventually, after a couple hours of therapy, and two prescribed pills, I slept for the first time, in a very _long_ time, without a nightmare. Since that day, I haven't had that nightmare; from then on, the scary dreams I had _were _of crazy clowns and wild animals chasing me. They were _normal_; I was _normal _again, and little by little I let go of hope that my dad would return. But around the age of eleven, I stopped having bad dreams _completely._ It was the oddest thing, but I never seemed to have another nightmare.

That was... until _tonight._

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew that I was still in Andy's arms because that was the last event I remembered. At no time in the recent past, had I wandered onto the beach I was now standing. It was, I suddenly understood with a gasp, the same beach from the _last_ dream I'd had in Kentucky. Only this time, Brandon stood next to me, without shifting into Andy. He was wearing the same navy blue polo and jean shorts that he always wore, at least once a week, in Raleigh. He'd always called it his "lucky outfit"; he was even wearing it the day I'd caught him cheating. Of course I understood then _why _it was "_lucky_". Now, Brandon was barefoot and standing two feet away from me, staring at me coldly.

The look in his eyes was hollow, there was no emotion. It was terrifying to see how _dead _they looked. Even as I smiled at him, they didn't change. There was _nothing. _

I looked down to see that I was in a simple pair of jeans and a white tee shirt, barefoot as well. But I couldn't feel the sand between my toes, which was peculiar; instead, it felt as if I was on solid glass. The sky, as it appeared in my last dream, was slate gray. The weather was cold and the ocean fifty feet away was bleak. "What are you doing here?" I asked Brandon, staring out into the water. I didn't want to look up into his cold eyes, for fear of what I would see. Or that I would see the nothingness again.

He remained silent and I continued, "How could you do that to me?" My voice broke, but I, somehow, kept it collected. My mind was churning, like a vast ocean. Thoughts heaved and swayed on the surface, like tiny ships. There were so many answers that I wanted, and _needed_, to be answered, but I knew that I had little time Brandon. _Why would he cheat on me? Why would he intentionally break my heart, _again?_ Why was he here; did my mind _really _want to suffer through seeing him?_

"Why?" The question escaped like a whisper between my lips. It was just a wisp of breath, barely audible, but Brandon shifted beside me.

"Love's a funny thing, Peyton." He replied, his voice heavy as a stone. I could feel his body next to mine and even though hours earlier, I discovered yet _another_ cheating spree on his part, I longed to be in his arms. I wanted to reach out and clasp his hand, fusing our bodies together forever.

A feeling was creeping through me; slowly and methodically, it pulsed through my veins like blood until it resonated from my core. I could feel it inside of me, and feel its weight to the tips of my fingers. It was icy and thick, and made me shiver though I was not cold. It was not a pleasant feeling, and reminded me briefly of Novocain. It was love, I realized with a gruesome epiphany. _I love him, but why? After everything he's done to me, why do I love him? _

However, this love I felt now was not the happy and cheerful love that I'd once shared with Brandon. It was dark and twisted; its edges were rough and sliced deep within me. This love was evil, and _painful_. But it _was_ love all the same. Even through all of this, through every event in the afternoon and _everything_ else, I loved Brandon. However, it was so much _more _than that. I _needed _him. He was the air I was breathing; he was my disease, my very being. He was a part of me, and consumed my soul with his own. I didn't need to be fused to him, because I was a part of him. Some may have said that it was romantic, feeling so utterly attached to a person like I was to Brandon. But it was different. I was breathing the same air Brandon inhaled; it filtered down through his lungs, which were my own. Every beat of his heart gave life to _me_. I had _become _a living extremity of Brandon. And if he wasn't here, or near me, I would die. It wasn't romantic, it was _horrifying_.

Standing next to him, my heart_ yearned _for his. _No, _I argued. I was fighting back against this love with a ferocity that would have rivaled an Apache warrior; I didn't want to feel like this. I didn't want to _love _Brandon. I wanted to _hate _him; I wanted to _slap _him and to _hurt _him.

I knew, though, that in hurting him, I would hurt myself. Any pain he felt, I would feel. _Is that love? _I demanded. _Or is this some twisted obsession?_ I was like a drug addict, and Brandon was the only fix I could find. Even though I hated him, as a heroin addict hates their drug, I had to be with him because... I _loved _him. Was that _right?_

My dream was beginning to look a lot more like a nightmare as I felt the putrid _love _rise up in my throat like bile. I felt sick and dizzy, not sure which way was up anymore. My blood pumped loudly behind my ears, and I could hardly stand. I realized, with sickening horror, that the love I felt for Brandon was poisoning me. I was _dying_. _Dying to love him,_ I thought with a sadistic smile.

Again, I fought away this feeling, resisting it with everything I had. _I don't want to die! _I screamed in my head. It was confusing and scary and I was beginning to _fear_ the strength of my attachment to him. But the love broke through me, like a light shining through the dark night. I loved Brandon, now more than ever. I loved this poison that was eroding my insides. Love was like that, I assumed. It didn't simply _go _away. I couldn't turn it _on _or _off_; I could only accept it. I turned to Brandon with tears in my eyes, wanting to be with him and to tell him it's alright.

"How could you do this to me?" I asked him again, weeping. But I wasn't talking about cheating or lying; he had poisoned me! Brandon's love, and my love _for_ him, was now killing me. "I don't want to die..." I mumbled in a child-like voice.

But through teary eyes, I realized that Brandon wasn't beside me anymore. He was walking away in the opposite direction, and I could almost feel my heart drag along after him, as if it was chained to him. "_Stop!_" I cried, running after him. But the glass I had been walking on earlier was now ice and I couldn't keep my balance. Sliding after him, but not able to keep up, I begged him to stay. With every step he took in the opposite direction, I seemed to fall backward. My heart, which was chained to him moments earlier, was prying itself loose and I threw my arms out in a feeble attempt to stop it. It was returning to its home inside my chest, but I didn't want it anymore. Because to break free from Brandon, it had to break all over again. Time was slowing, as it had in the nightmares from my younger days. _No! _I sobbed in my head. _Don't leave me again, don't do this to me. _"Brandon!" I screamed to his fleeing back, my fingers digging into the hard ground. My nails, bloody and broken from trying to claw my away along, throbbed but I gripped down harder. My vision was blinded with tears and my whole body ached to be with Brandon.

Then, for the briefest instant, I thought I saw him pause. And ever so slowly, he turned. He was... _I can't really see_, I thought. _He's coming back! _The happiness that bubbled up into my throat threatened to choke me. Brandon was coming towards me, slowly, but all the same, he was returning. And then, when he was in front of me, he offered a hand to help me up. I stared at his perfectly smooth palm for a moment, sobbing with joy.

I reached for it, lifting myself onto my knees. I was slow, because the ice beneath me was still slick. Suddenly, there was a sharp crack and I felt the pain flare through my cheek. I raised a hand to my left cheek, where Brandon's slap had left a mark.

I clutched at him again, and he took a step backwards, followed by two more. "Please..." I sobbed. "Don't leave me; don't let me die!"

"_You _left _me_, remember?" He hissed, and I looked up into his eyes. They didn't belong to him because they were red, _evil._ It was the scariest thing I'd ever seen, but I didn't crouch back in fear. Instead, I attempted to crawl forward, my heart longing to return to him. I reached out for this monster— the monster that I loved. I wanted to be with him more than anything now. Again, he backed away. "Don't come near me," he whispered. "I don't want your sickness." But for an instant, _sickness _sounded like _love._ The world seemed to tilt a little further; I was so close to death now, I knew.

"But I love you!" I cried. "I need you!" _I need you, _I sobbed in my head.

Brandon didn't hear me, because he was gone. I raised my head, and saw that he was too far away again. I tried to rise up, to chase after him, but the love I felt, that heavy and weighted love was holding me down. It pinned me to the ground as I struggled against it. The more I fought against it, the more it held fast. "Brandon!" I screamed after him. "_Brandon_!" My words were choked with tears and pain and the iron taste of blood filled my mouth.

And I knew he was gone. I knew it was over. _He wasn't coming back. He didn't love me anymore. _The words sounded so familiar... Death was upon me now, pouncing like a tiger. Its sharp claws raked down my back, making me scream out in pain. Wasn't death supposed to peaceful? This was torture, a painful and unbearable end. I couldn't take it; it was too much. _Just let it be over,_ I sobbed. _Let me die already! _

And then slowly, the love—the _poison_— took its toll. And I began to breathe shallower, my heart racing towards its end. In the last moments of this dream-life, I was only thinking of one thing. _Brandon..._ I whispered, over and over, repeating the name of my killer like he was my savior.

As darkness closed around me, morning's rays broke through.

There's something about morning that always took my breath away. On this particular morning, I awoke to the sound of a blackbird outside my window. I rolled over, blinking through the new sun, and watched as it perched itself on the window sill. Its ebony coat shined and the sleek wings were ruffled by the breeze. The sun deflected off of it, and illuminated the dust flying in the air. I smiled, watching how beautiful the morning was.

There was fresh dew on the ground and the trees seemed to absorb the morning rays. Inside, it was warm and bright. The room smelled of wood and bacon, which I assumed we were having for breakfast. Carefully, I rolled out of bed, not wanting to disturb the blackbird. But it sensed my movement and flew away; its great wings beating against the air. I watched it go, stepping closer to the window. _Fly, _I thought reverently. _And don't let anything bring you down. _

The trees that spread out like a giant green carpet around me were lush and thick with summer. The clouds overhead were puffed and new; they looked as though they'd been drawn. I stood at the window, looking out over the view. It was warm from the sun and I rested my hand against the cool glass, feeling how the heat hadn't absorbed into it yet.

There was something about _this_ morning, and I turned back towards the bed, smoothing the covers down. Andy wasn't here, but I could hear the rest of the group downstairs. I walked to the other side of the room, peering in through the bathroom door into the mirror. The girl staring back at me was disheveled; she looked like she'd just had the worst nightmare of her life. Her eyes looked like they'd seen war, but the horror and the sorrow in them was beginning to fade. Her heart beat slowly, proving it was there although she'd cried it out yesterday and watched it die the same night; it must have returned sometime near dawn because it continued to push blood through her veins. I took two steps forward, still watching the girl.

She couldn't be _me—_ someone who let a boy more than four hundred miles away break her heart and then dreamed that the love she felt for him killed her. That sounded silly, and I was positive that I wouldn't _ever _do that. However, her hair was the same shade as mine; her lips were the same shape; her eyes just as blue and her delicate frame matched every curve I had.

She _was_ me, and I was her; we were the same _silly _girl.

I closed my eyes, refusing to meet my own in the mirror. I thought of the blackbird again, and suddenly longed to sprout wings and fly. Life would be so much easier that way if I could simply _escape_ from everything. For a moment, I rolled up onto the balls of my feet, throwing my arms out against the sun, praying that I would rise off the ground. I felt weightless and so peaceful and it seemed that the sun could pick me up and carry me away. But my feet remained planted on the floor and I sighed, sitting back down on the bed. Everyone was downstairs; I could hear Charlie's deep rolling laughter filter up into the room. _It's time you go face them, Peyton, _I told myself, kicking out of the same jeans I'd worn the night before and reaching for a new pair.

As I moved to go downstairs, I heard my name leak into the conversation. Pulling my hair up into a bun on the top of my head, I sat down on the top step to eavesdrop for a moment.

"I can't believe he did that t'her. Th'nerve of some of them city boys," I heard Arlene sigh.

"Andy was'a mumblin' somethin' like that this'a mornin'," Tommy offered.

"What'd he say?" Arlene asked.

Now it was Charlie talking. Mille and Andy's voices were absent which surprised me. "He was goin' on 'bout something how he could just _kill _Peyton's boyfriend or whateva' he is now. He was ravin' 'bout how that Brendan or Billy or whateva' his name is..."

"_Brandon_," I whispered. The name tasted like bile on tongue.

"... and how he was th'stupidest guy on th'planet," Charlie finished. "He said somethin' like, 'He don't even deserve t'look at'er. Then he said he was goin' for a ride. I found Millie and she said she'd go afta' 'em t'make sure he didn't get lost. All we need is for him t'get eaten by a _bear _or somethin' like that."

"There are no bears up here," Tommy replied.

"_Whateva'..." _Charlie said. "I'm goin' t'see if I can find them. They've been gone for _too_ long and we don't want a repeat of yesterday, ya' comin' Tommy?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second," Tommy whispered, and I heard the refrigerator open. Then I heard a pair of footsteps disappear out of the door.

"Do ya' think Naomi knows?" Arlene asked, and I heard Tommy close the refrigerator door sharply.

"What are ya' talkin' 'bout, Arlene?" Tommy replied. _Yeah, Arlene. _I thought. _What does Naomi _not _know? _I strained to hear better, scooting down one step.

"That Andy still loves Peyton Maye…" I drew in a sharp breath; _surely she was wrong. _But the idea of love was odd. I didn't know what love _was _anymore. Arlene was crazy… Andy didn't love me, no one did. I closed my eyes, begging tears to evade me. _Who needs love anyway? _I asked in a pitiful attempt to console myself. Love was just another four letter word like _rock_, or _food. _It held no value in my mind, not after yesterday.

Briefly, the thought of _yesterday _forced a few tears out of my eyes. They ran down my cheeks silently, and I could still hear the bubbly voice of the _girl _Brandon had been with. _How could he do that? _I asked myself, for what seemed like the thousandth time. _How could he hurt me after that letter? He said he was the ocean and I was the sky— and that I was _burned _into him. He couldn't live without me. _

_Stop, _I begged my thoughts. _Please don't. _But it was too late, and I pulled myself up off the stairs and drew back into the room. I had to see Brandon's words again; I had to know that we were _real. _I had to know that we weren't a dream, or a nightmare. _Who cares about love? _I thought again.

_You do, stupid. _I replied.

I had a hand on my suitcase, when a realization hit me. I couldn't read that letter. I couldn't do it. I knew it was there, and I knew that all I had to do was unzip the bag and draw it out. But I couldn't. My hand wouldn't move. _Leave it, _I thought, rising. _Leave it alone, let Brandon go. _I had to, if I had any chance of being happy, I had to stop ripping the Band-Aid off. By reading that letter, I was just going to break my heart _again_. I was going to cry and sob and moan, and I was going to hurt.

And I couldn't _hurt _anymore. As much pain as I'd lived through in the past month, I needed a sliver of peace. Reading that letter would be the opposite of peace, it would rip me apart by the seams.

So I turned my back to the letter, to Brandon and everything that had broken me down. And for the final time, I wiped away my tears. This was _my _summer, damnit. This was _my _life. _I'm not going to spend it in tears. And I may be sad right now; I may be broken and torn apart. But I'm going to be happy, one of these days. I'm going to smile again, to laugh again and to find something that would make me whole. _

_Because… _I told myself. _You can't have the rainbow without a little rain first. _


	18. Chapter 18

Smiling, just a bit, I walked back to my perch at the top of the stairs. Tommy had left and Arlene was left alone in the kitchen.

She began to hum a tune that I didn't know. She was such a pretty singer and I paused for a moment to listen to her. When we were younger, she'd always challenge me to sing with her, but I'd politely refused every time. No one's voice compared to hers. It was famous throughout the town.

But as she finished her song, I decided it was time to make my presence known. I stood up, wiping my hands on my pants and walked down into the kitchen.

"Morning," I greeted Arlene quietly.

She smiled at me from behind the counter, "Hey, how ya' feelin'?"

I thought for a moment, letting her question sink in. I know that she meant it as a breezy conversation starter, but I was feeling so many things that I simply said, "Like I was cheated on yesterday... _over the phone_." Then I laughed. It felt as though 50 years had passed in a night. Physically, I was exhausted. My body was strained from crying so much yesterday and then from the awful dream I'd had. I could sense the dark circles under my eyes and the dishevelment of my hair. But it was my mind that was worn paper-thin. My thoughts seemed as though they weighed a ton, and they drudged through me to the surface very slowly. The amount of heartbreak a person can take is like water in a glass- half empty or half full, it's still there and that's what matters.

But there was a light shining somewhere deep within all of the tragedy. It was the realization I'd had moments earlier. I was doing awful right now, but soon, I'd be doing a whole _hell _of a lot better. And that thought was promising. "I'm getting through it, though," I tacked on with a smile.

"I'm so sorry about that," she whispered, giving me a look of pity. _How could she possibly know what I'm feeling? _I thought, selfishly, for a moment. _She's never had the boy she loved cheat on her... twice_. I pushed the thought out of my mind because I saw her move to say something more. But as I took a seat, I saw her mood shift from sympathetic to annoyed. "Why didn't ya' call us though," she demanded, indicating to a plate of bacon. I nodded, smiling and she pressed on. "Instead'a sittin' out in th'woods by yourself? Do ya' know how worried we were 'bout ya'?"

"I... I wasn't really thinking straight, Arlene." I told her honestly. For an instant, I was still sitting under the tree, sobbing my heart out and I could feel my mind cloud over again. The tears didn't come though, and I was proud of myself.

I thought of the dream, how my love for Brandon killed me and I understood, now, what that meant. As I sat there, I could feel pieces of me falling away. I wasn't the same as I'd been before I'd met Brandon, and before I'd fallen in love with him. Before becoming enamored with Brandon, I was _strong_; if Andy would've cheated on me _twice_, I would have been _angry_ now, rather than sad. I wouldn't feel my heart breaking, but rather, my pride swelling. I wouldn't have stood for it and Andy would be begging me, on bended knees, to take him back. I'd refuse— not wanting to even _spit _in his direction.

But, then Brandon came along. And I shoved every bit of _Peyton Maye _away to be _Peyton_... _Brandon's _Peyton. This thought settled over me like a mist, floating around in my mind; and slowly, the haziness began to evaporate again.

As I looked back over my short life with Brandon, I saw how much I'd _changed_. Every part of me now was _Brandon— _as I'd realized in my dream, when I understood that his heart was my heart and that he was _giving _me life. Of course, this wasn't true, seeing that I was still breathing. But the metaphor was there. I was _Brandon_ in Peyton Hale's body. My likes were similar to his, the way I dressed was the prep fashion that _Brandon _liked; everything about me was influenced by him. Until I started crushing on Brandon, I dressed how I wanted. I didn't care what people thought of me, or if I was liked until the day I realized that I wanted Brandon. And then, suddenly, everyone's thoughts of me, especially Brandon's, were all I could think about.

_How had I let this happen? _I thought to myself.

Arlene continued to talk, but I was no longer listening. I felt, instead, as though dawn was breaking in my mind for the second time that day; _had I been so mystified with loving Brandon that I failed to be myself? _In loving Brandon, I'd lost myself. The fact sat heavy in my mind.

I'd changed for what? _A guy?_ Who had I become? I couldn't answer the question. What was my favorite food? My favorite movie? What did I like to do on the weekends? All of my answers paralleled Brandon's, I recognized with a laugh.

That wasn't me, that wasn't Peyton or Peyton Maye. Why did I care so much? Would Brandon not have liked me if I hadn't become the _perfect _girl for him? _No, _I laughed. _He wouldn't. _And I understood why. I'd wanted Brandon because, to me, he was perfect. _He was the perfect guy. _If he hadn't been _perfect, _I wouldn't have wasted my time. But then, I hadn't fallen in love with Brandon, I'd fallen in love with Brandon's perfection and the idea that I had the _unobtainable _get.

I didn't know the _real _Brandon, I realized suddenly. I just knew what I wanted about him— the parts that made him immaculate. Had I been so shallow?

Brandon wasn't the perfect guy, I saw that clearly now. And in my heart, I knew I didn't love him. I never had. I'd loved the _idea _of him. I'd love that he'd loved me and that he chased after me.

I was still in love with my _perfect _Brandon, the one that had rooted itself in my mind. And I would always love _that _Brandon. And I knew, that there would be moments, when I would falter, and I would crave for _that _Brandon. However, it was comforting to know that he was just a figment of my imagination. He was like Heathcliff or Romeo; he would never come chasing after me because he didn't exist. My Brandon wasn't the _true and real _Brandon… I didn't love the real one.

Then I had another thought. It was possible to assume that Brandon never loved me, he loved the _perfect _me. He loved the Peyton I'd become _for _him. And I'd changed _so much _that I didn't think he would _love, _or even _like, _the real Peyton.

Brandon and I, the _real _Brandon and I, were two different people. We didn't know each other and we hadn't bothered to try to get to know one another. Our fictional depictions of each other had sufficed and we'd been living a lie for the past four months.

And even though it was just that— _a lie_— I didn't regret a moment of it. Because out of the ashes of my and Brandon's failed relationship, I'd learned so much. My love with Brandon had rivaled those in the films or classic romances. And yet, it hadn't been enough. Love wasn't about perfection. Love was making mistakes, taking wrong turns and having to start over again. Love wasn't perfect and it was useless to try to make it seem that way. It's the flaws and the cracks that make love unique.

Cookie-cutter romances are nice in novels, because the ending is always predictable. They end up together, just about _every _time_. _But in real life, not knowing the ending is what makes love so much more special. I knew the ending to my fantasy relationship with Brandon; we'd end up living happily ever after together. We wouldn't know each other, but we wouldn't care. We'd be so happy in the fact that we were _perfect _together that it wouldn't matter. But underneath, we'd be like two mismatched puzzle pieces. They look right together, but if you look closely enough, you can see that they just _don't _fit and nothing anyone does will make them go together like they should.

And besides, what was life if the ending was already decided? Death might as well come now because all the surprises are aired out. That was no way to live. I didn't want that, I laughed.

Then just like that, my wings grew. The wings in my heart sprouted and burst out to their full span. I was caught in a web— the one that I'd created— of romances and desire and fantasy. But I had finally found my way out. I realized, amidst the swirl of emotions, that love wasn't _losing_ yourself in someone. Love was... _is_... being yourself _with_ someone else. And that someone else wouldn't ask me to change or be anyone who I wasn't. I could wear what I wanted, think what I wanted, like and eat and _be _what I wanted. That kind of love wasn't perfect, it shouldn't be. But it was the best kind out there. It was like... _oh, no..._ I thought, smiling.

_It's like Andy and I. _

Several things happened at that moment, all of which combined felt somewhat like running smack into a brick wall.

First, time seemed to slow considerably. Arlene's mouth as she spoke was moving in slow motion and my train track thoughts seemed to reduce to a crawl. Everything was pushed into focus, as well. The sun rays seemed tangible and the sounds and smells surrounding me all became apparent. And then, the biggest epiphany of my life hit me— hard.

In my heart, one memory was becoming _very_ present, as if it were pushing to be recalled. I blinked once and it flashed before my eyes like a firework.

_Two years earlier..._

"Andy..." I cooed, sliding into his arms. We were out behind Grandmama's barn; and in between several _deep _kisses, we chatted aimlessly about nothing. Andy, wearing my favorite white tee shirt with the stain on the right shoulder, pulled me close and kissed my forehead.

"Can I ask ya' somethin'?" He asked.

"What?" I replied, looking up into his perfect blue eyes. They were deep and endless, crystal clear. His entire _self _was beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful.

I struggled with the next thought that crossed my mind. _I loved him._ We'd been childhood friends since _forever_, but we'd only started officially _dating_ about six months ago. The sad thing, I discovered, was that I'd loved Andy since before we'd gone out. I'd loved him since I could remember. But now, _dating _him, I didn't know if he felt the same way. It was nerve-wracking.

How was I supposed to tell this boy that I was crazy about him?

"Where do ya' see yourself in a couple o'years?" he blinked nervously.

I smiled up into his face, and kissed him lightly on the chin. "With you, silly." It was so true. I didn't see myself _anywhere _but here, with him, just like this. And no matter what happened, I would always come back to him. There was no one like him and I didn't want _anyone _to ever be like him.

The world could end tomorrow, but it wouldn't matter as long as I had Andy by my side. I didn't care where I went in life, or what happened to me, only if I knew that Andy was mine.

"Do ya' promise?" He pressed.

"I swear… But why?" _He's so serious_, I thought, anxious. _Why is he suddenly so intense? _

And then Andy whispered, very softly into my ear. "Because I wanted t'make sure that th'girl I'm standin' next to in two years... four years... ten years... _forever_ is _you_. I love ya' Peyton Maye, more than th'stars. I'm in love with ya', I always have been."

"Andy..." I sighed, my heart inflating twenty times bigger. "I love you, too!" And then, with my hopes encouraged and my perfect boyfriend— the _love of my life_— next to me, I was ready to face _foreve_r. Because it would take forever_ and a day _for me to stop loving Andy.

_"Forever_," I breathed, blinking out of the memory. In my mind, it felt as though half an hour had passed. But, as I crashed back down into reality, I heard that Arlene was finishing the sentence she'd started ten seconds after I'd last spoken. I didn't hear the end of _whatever _sentence she was speaking because instantly my mind was sucked back into focus. _Forever..._ _forever... forever_ _with Andy._ And then the answer knocked me breathless.

I loved Andy. I was _in _love with Andy! There was no one else, and I'd been foolish to ever think that there would be. It was clear now. _Andy. _I loved him.

When I'd left him two years ago, I left thinking that it was over. How wrong I'd been… And then, when I saw Brandon, I shoved Andy back into a dusty corner of my heart. And I'd thought that I could lock him away and keep two years ago separate from the rest of my life... my _forever_. I forced my romantic notions onto Brandon to make him this _perfect _creature, when I hadn't needed perfection— I'd only needed Andy.

I was scared, though. I was scared of loving Andy. Just like Hanna and Ku'tah. She'd left him because she didn't want to _have _to be with him. Yes, she'd loved him… just as I'd loved Andy. But she wasn't ready to settle down and to be what everyone else said she should be. And at the time, two years ago, that'd been my mindset. I was scared of becoming the _down home, southern belle. _

_Why does that matter? _I asked myself. _You would have had Andy… and that's all you would've wanted. _Why couldn't I have seen this?

Andy had always been enough. He was _more _than enough. He was _everything. _And with him, I had the world. Everyone said that, too. Everyone knew that Andy and I were meant for each other.

Even my heart saw it; it _pulled _me here after Brandon had cheated on me. It pulled me into the first dream I'd had where Andy and Brandon kept shifting back and forth between each other. It was a _battle _that my heart was fighting; and in the end, as Andy had walked away with the words, "I told you so" on his lips, the part he held in my heart won. To celebrate its victory, it pulled me into his arms and into his kiss— _our _kiss. Even with Brandon on the phone yesterday, my heart kept throwing Andy into the mix. _My poor heart_, I thought. _Oh, my poor heart_. It was like the padlock on it suddenly burst open and every feeling for Andy suddenly negated every feeling for Brandon.

Brandon was the unobtainable get, the _impossible _catch and I'd only wanted him because he didn't want me. My love for him was pure _vanity _on my part, because in securing him, I proved that I could _break _away from Andy. I'd only been running away instead of facing the facts: Andy was _my _forever.

He wasn't my heart or my soul, like I'd thought Brandon was. He was just the person who I wanted to wake up with _every morning _from here until the end of time; he was who I wanted to experience the whole _world _with. I wanted to hold Andy's hand. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to marry Andy and to have his babies. I wanted to go to bed, every night, knowing that the first thing I'd think of the next morning was _him. _There was nothing that I loved more than Andy.

_Andy._

"Did ya' hear me Peyton Maye?" Arlene asked.

"No..." I answered, standing. "I didn't. But listen, Arlene. Where is Andy?" _As if I didn't already know... _

She looked briefly insulted, but then she saw must have saw the light shining in my eyes— the _love_— and quickly stammered, "They all went on a ride. I don't know... I'd assume it's just th'same route they took yesterday."

"And where is that?" I grabbed her by the shoulders, needing to find Andy now. I had to tell him; he needed to know. He was the light of my life, the _love _of my life. He was _my world. I love him, _I thought. _I love Andy. _

"Just head straight west... I _think_," Arlene winced, not wanting to be wrong. I remembered the direction the boys had head off yesterday and I smiled.

"Thanks," I breathed and pulled her into a hug. "Thanks for everything."

"Go get 'em," she said fiercely, squeezing me back. "_Finally!"_

I looked at her, rolled my eyes, and sprinted out the door. Ace was in the back barn and I threw a bridle on him and slung myself over his back. Digging my heels into his sides, I spread my wings and flew away... headed into the arms of my forever.


	19. Chapter 19

I don't remember the ride to find Andy. It was as if I wasn't in my body, just floating along behind it. My mind wasn't working right, either. I could think of _nothing_ other than Andy's face- his smile, his eyes and the look he would give me when I told him that I loved him. We would be together and everything would be perfect. My _life_ would be perfect and it would make sense again. There would be no more saddness or despair, only joy and radiance. My life, loving Andy, would fufill every dream I'd ever had. I didn't need anyone or anything else- only _him_.

Was it possible that the world around me was more beautiful now then it had ever been? The trees seemed to be a more _alive_ shade of green, their leaves sparkling in the sunlight, which burned even brighter. The air was cool and clean in the mid-morning atmosphere. The sky was an unending blue and the birds songs were loud and clear. My ride was heavenly, and only intensified when I heard Millie's laughter chime through the trees. _There they are, _I thought, busting out into a wide smile. _And _my _Andy is with them. _

_My _Andy. It felt good to say that again. It felt good to have a solid claim in someone. I liked how confident I was in loving Andy, I didn't question _us _for a second.

With Brandon, I was always looking over shoulder. I waited for him to one day appear and say _"Sorry. I changed my mind." _He would run off with someone else, I'd been so sure… And I'd been so right.

It wouldn't be like that with Andy. Andy and I wouldn't want _anyone _else. _Nothing _would ever come between us. I would let it because I wasn't about to let him go again.

"Ya' hear that?" Tommy asked, his voice filtering through the trees. "Sounds like hooves; someone musta' be ridin' up."

"It's me!" I called, trying to follow the sound of their echoing voices. Everything out here looked the same and I could tell which direction they were approaching. It would be very easy to get lost in these woods.

"Peyton Maye?" Andy replied and my world, at that moment hearing my name on his lips, was clearer than it had ever been. At that space in time, I knew _everything _about my life and myself and it felt as if I was that the very pinnacle of my existence. In loving Andy- in realizing that I'd found the _one _for me- I'd discovered who I was. I didn't question _why _I was on this Earth anymore; in fact, there wasn't a doubt in my mind. I was here because I was meant to love Andy, and we were meant to be together. _Say it again, _I begged in my head. _Say my name for forever. _

"Peyton Maye!" Millie screamed, and I could hear her own horse's hooves trotting my way. Then, to my left, she appeared through the trees. "What are yo-" she began when I met her gaze with a smile. She stopped, opened her mouth to say something but only closed it again. Then, with a sudden intake of breath, her whole face lit up. I'd said nothing, but her smile was so big that the thoughts running through her mind were obvious. _She knows, _I laughed to myself. _She understands everything. _And she did, that was clear on her face, which softened as tears pricked her eyes. She led her horse over to Ace and I and grasped my hand with such a grip that it hurt. Millie didn't speak, but everything she was thinking ran across her face. _You love him? _Her gaze asked.

I nodded, smiling. "It's true," I whispered. "I do, more than _anything_. I don't know how I could have left him." Millie inhaled in a broken gasp and a tear ran down her cheek. It was a happy tear, I hoped. The wide smile that spread across her face reassured me and I returned it. We sat there, for the next moment, saying nothing aloud. But we were silently thinking the same thing: _It's about time. _

Charlie trotted onto the trail a moment later and was alarmed to see Millie wiping her face. "Ya' alright?" He asked her, throwing a leg over his saddle to climb off of his horse. He crossed to Millie in two giant strides and put a hand on her knee.

"Yeah," Millie whispered. "I'm great." And then she laughed.

Charlie looked at me and I smiled at him. He didn't see what Millie had seen; he didn't comprehend the _euphoria _in my eyes. "I don't know what ya'll were discussin', but I'm awfully confused." He muttered with a frown.

"Oh hush," Millie replied. "I'm just _really _happy." Saying this, she looked over at me, smiling again. "It's been _too _long." Charlie rolled his eyes and playfully swatted her knee before returning to clamber back onto his horse.

"Where'd ya'll go?" Tommy yelled through the trees. He wasn't visible yet, but his voice didn't sound too far away.

"Over here!" Millie yelled back. Before she could finish her reply, Tommy rode through a thick pair of ferns on the opposite side of the trail. His baseball cap was on backwards and had a small branch sticking out the back of it, like he'd rode through a cedar patch and had a hard time getting out of it. When Charlie pointed it out to him, we laughed.

"Shut up!" Tommy demanded. "I didn't see it comin'. Not my fault that _Andy _didn't tell me 'bout a massive tree headin' my way."

"Well maybe if ya'd pay attention, I wouldn't have t'." Andy's voice said, and my heart sped up. He appeared, gracefully on the bay mare he always rode, behind Tommy. He was gorgeous- his long and lean body sitting tall on the horse. The muscles rippled beneath his shirt and his arms were flexed. His blonde hair underneath a navy baseball cap was perfect and the cap cast a shadow across his chiseled face. I narrowed my eyes, biting my lip. My mouth was dry and my body ached with lust. He was _perfect. _

_And he's mine... _I thought, smiling so big that my face hurt. Millie looked over at me and laughed, which caused everyone to look at _her._ She nodded. "Oh hey Peyton Maye," Andy said, looking my way. "I see you're up."

"Yeah," I laughed, fighting the urge to jump him. "I figured I'd join you guys. Where are we off to now?" _Oh, and... I love you_, I added. But I _had_ to keep it light. All my mushy confessions would come later. Here, in front of everyone else, I had to seem normal still.

"We were just headin' back, actually." Tommy explained, looking guilty. "We didn't want t'stay out all mornin'."

"Oh," I pouted genuinely sad that my ride was so short.

But Andy shook his head, "If ya' wanna' ride some more, I'll go with ya'. It's such a pretty day out." _Andy and I, alone_. _God, that'll be great._ I thought, nodding happily. The way Andy said it though, narrowing his eyes slightly, made me feel like he was trying to tell me something. He _wanted _to tell me something, I guessed.

_Oh god! _I gasped. _What if he wants to tell me that he loves me, too? What if he's been thinking it all along? Maybe he's just been trying to get me alone… Oh god, what if? _The thought made my blood run hotter with excitement. _What if? What if? What if? _I smiled widely and nodded.

"Yeah, me too," Charlie tacked on. I sighed, my face falling just a bit. I really _only_ wanted to be with Andy, _without_ Charlie coming along, especially if Andy did_ have_ to tell me something. I was going to look at Millie for support, but she beat me to it.

"Charlie, I'm tired. Won't you come back with me? We can take a nap... And then maybe we'll go out later." The way she said it, cooing softly, was irresistible for Charlie.

He gulped and laughed. "Well... maybe I don't wanna' go _that_ bad," he revised and we all chuckled. I looked at Andy and he smiled. _Did he see it? _I thought. _Does he know how much I love him? Does he feel the same way? _

"So we'll see ya'll later?" Andy asked the group and Tommy, Charlie and Millie nodded. "Ya' ready, Peyton Maye?" he asked, looking my way.

"You have no idea..." I whispered. _You have no idea how ready I am for us to pick up where we left off. I don't want to waste another _minute _without you_. _I love you, Andy Cuttsinger. Te amo como los aves aman el cielo. _That phrase was a part of the little Spanish I knew; it meant _I love you like the birds love the sky. _My mom had taught it to me a couple years back after she returned from a trip to Spain. My mother, unlike myself, was fluent in three different languages, Spanish being one of them. She constantly muttered phrases or demands at me under her breath in Spanish, speaking so fluidly that she sounded like a native speaker.

"No lo hablo" was my often reply to my mother's quick tongue. She'd shoot me a look and laugh. My mother's laughing face disappeared from my mind when Andy gently slapped my knee with his rein. "C'mon... I got a place t'show ya'."

I smiled at him and let he lead the bay mare in front of Ace and I. He took off a trot down a path that was different from the one he'd come from. _How does he know where this place is? _I was thinking when I heard him call over his shoulder, "Now... I've only been t'this place once, so I'm not sure if I'ma goin' th'right direction. But, I think I am. Do ya' rememba' that one little meadow I took ya' to? Backwood? It's a lot like that..."

_Of course I remember it, silly. It was where you kissed me, _I told him in my head. I thought back to our kiss and how great it'd been. _"Dance with me," _he'd whispered. And then we'd kissed, and at the time, I hadn't understood. But now I knew that it was my heart's doing. My heart was trying to show me how much I actually loved Andy. And when Andy had pulled away without a word, I'd let him walk away. _Never again.__.__. _I told myself, smiling. _I'll never let him go again. _

I was reveling in the memory of Andy's mouth on mine, not really following the path we were taking now. And I wanted badly to kiss him now, _again. _I wanted to kiss him and to pour all my feelings into it. I could just see myself calling out _Stop! _Andy would come to me, and I wouldn't say a word, I wouldn't have to. Andy would understand because he would be thinking of the same thing.

I'd stroke a finger down his cheek and wrap my arms around him. Andy's arms would encircle me and pull me into him. And we'd stand there, just holding each other. His lips would press, gently, against my hair and he'd whisper how much he'd missed me to himself. Then, without thought, I'd pull back two inches and look deep into his eyes. He'd return my gaze with a fire that would melt my soul. And then, slowly, our lips would meet. And the world could catch on fire at that moment, but we wouldn't notice. Nothing else would matter, just _that _moment in time. Our kiss would build, and take on a life of its own. It would be the kind of kiss that movies tried to perfect, that author's tried to depict with colorful words... Our kiss would be amazing. And when we pulled apart, we'd both smile.

_Perfect, _I thought, still smiling at my imaginary kiss. I wasn't paying attention to all the scenery around me, so I didn't notice when Andy veered off onto a _different _path. One moment, I was behind him and then next he was gone. I looked around, blinking twice. "Andy?" I asked.

His laughter came from behind me and I swiveled around on Ace to see him emerge on the bay mare from a trail about 10 yards back. "I was'a ridin' along and I turned and ya' didn't follow... It's this way, Peyton Maye." I smiled, embarrassed.

"Sorry," I apologized. "I was daydreaming." My daydream sent a brief flicker of electricity through my veins and I shivered.

"Ya' do that a lot, y'know that?" Andy teased. "Ya' always have had your head in th'clouds. And ya' have always dreamed of th'impossible."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked, smiling.

Andy thought for a moment and then gave me a lopsided grin. "No, not at all. I wish I could be more like ya'." _I wish I could be _with _you, _I thought. _I love you. _Then I realized that Brandon had never been happy when I would zone out and fall back into some old memory or thought. He used to snap at me and tell me to _stop _dreaming. _"Stop dreaming. Get your head of the clouds, Peyton. It'll never happen." _But Andy smiled at it, proving that he was the _real _one I wanted.

_Do it now! _I commanded myself, opening my mouth to say something. Ace sauntered back to the trail Andy was on, and stopped just beside the bare mare. Andy was so _close _now; I could take in every detail of him. It was the closet I'd been to him all day. With slow precision, I looked him over, taking in _every _detail of him, but still said nothing.

Andy tilted his head, waiting, and then laughed when no words came out of my mouth. _What's stopping you? _I thought. _Why can't you just kiss the boy? You've done it so many times before. _But I just couldn't bring myself to say or do anything. I felt, for the first time, nervous about being around Andy. My sudden hesitation came from Andy's observation. _I've always dreamed of the impossible... _He was right. I didn't rationalize my thoughts. I _couldn't _kiss him now, because... I hadn't rationalized these sudden feelings for Andy.

I'd forgotten one _key _detail; something that was a _huge _obstacle blocking my path at winning Andy back. In my flurry of euphoria at my realizing that I loved Andy, I'd overlooked something that was like a stone holding Andy down.

And looking at Andy, I'd realized what that stone was. Around Andy's wrist was a simple black cord, with two wooden beads on it. On the beads, inked in a permanent marker, were two letters: _N _and _S. _

_Naomi Sawyer. _

I'd forgotten _all _about her, and the fact that she was _dating _the boy I was in love with. Andy was still Naomi's. He hadn't ended it with her yet. _God, _how could I have not _remembered? _I kicked myself mentally. _Why did I not think of that? _I knew the answer, though. I'd overlooked her, subconsciously, because I didn't think she'd matter. I thought and I hoped that the way Andy felt about Naomi was the way I'd felt about Brandon- it was just a cover up.

I knew it wasn't though. He cared about her; he'd said it himself. And this cord around his wrist was there to remind him of _her _every day. He wanted _her, _not me. Deep down, I guess I was hoping that Andy secretly knew that he loved me the way I loved him. And that no _one _person, or two relationships, would could between us. In the next moment, I realized that I'd been daydreaming all morning. I'd been dreaming of the impossible; getting Andy was _impossible. _I couldn't just _kiss _him now, he'd reject me. He was with Naomi, and he was happy.

I felt like I'd been punched. _How could I have been so stupid? _

"Are ya' alright?" Andy asked me, looking at me nervously. I met his gaze with eyes filled with horror. "Oh my god, Peyton Maye, you're cryin'!"

_Am I? _I asked him, silently. _Don't you see that I want you? Don't you see that I'm here, now? I'm back, Andy! I love you. _"I'm fine..." I whispered, using my sleeve to wipe my eyes. He was right, I was crying. More than I'd realized, too.

"We have t'go on foot from 'ere, ya' up t'walkin'?" Andy asked, putting a hand on my elbow. "We can go back if ya' need t'. I don't want ya' t'be sad." His words were so kind and his smile was genuine. If only he knew he was the reason of this heartache. If only he _knew _that he could make it all better.

_Then love me again, _I countered. _I won't be sad if you just pull me into his arms. _And to my surprise, he did. Andy climbed down off the bay mare and tied her reins to the tree. Then he took three steps back to me and pulled me down off of Ace. Andy coaxed Ace's reins out of my hand and tied him to the same tree as the bay mare. Then, without a word, came back to me and wrapped me in a tight hug. I inhaled his scent, relaxing into him instantly. We stood there, just holding each other. It was perfect, just like I'd imagined. But it was so different at the same time. This wasn't an embrace of love from him, it was one of sympathy. He pitied me. "I'm so sorry that _he _did that t'ya'," Andy whispered into my hair.

"What?" I asked, confused for a moment. And then it hit me, Andy was still talking about Brandon. He still thought that I was hung up over Brandon. He didn't realize that my affections had shifted and the only person I wanted now was _himself. _I didn't care about Brandon, not the real one anyway.

"Brandon... he cheated on ya', I'm sorry. Ya' didn't deserve none o'that."

"Andy..." I began, not wanting to let him continue. He didn't need to hash out old news. I didn't want to talk about Brandon anymore, or ever again. Brandon didn't occupy my heat anymore. _Andy did. _And to let Andy talk about Brandon seemed weird.

"No, Peyton Maye. _Really-" _Andy insisted. "He did ya' so wrong. And ya' deserve so much betta'." _Someone like you... _I thought. _I don't deserve you, I just want you _really _bad. _"I don't know how any good _man _could eva' do that t'a girl he _loves. _I coulda' neva' done that t'ya'..."

I squeezed him tighter, just wanting him to shut up. But then he whispered, "And I could neva' do that t'Naomi..."

I froze, letting his last statement sink into my brain. _To a girl he loves... Naomi. Did Andy just say that...? _"Andy," I began, peeling myself away from him.

"I'm sorry," Andy said, frowning. "I didn't wanna' tell ya' like this; it just slipped out. But now that I said it, or... _sorta' _said it, I have somethin' t'tell ya'." I turned, not able to look at Andy anymore. I could see his face when he said the words. I couldn't see how his eyes would light up and the side of his mouth would pull up into a grin. I couldn't stop the tears that spilled over, either. I stared out into the trees, there at the edge of the trail. My back was to Andy, so he didn't notice me crying. _Please don't, _I begged. _Don't say it. _

But I heard him suck in a breath and reposition himself. I closed my eyes, waiting for the swift blow. It would break my heart, to hear next words that came out of his mouth, I knew it. _I'd always dreamed of the impossible, never actually made it happen... This was impossible- Andy and I- we were impossible. Especially now that he- _

"I love her, Peyton Maye. I'm in love with Naomi."

_Impossible, _I told myself. _Stop dreaming. Get your head of the clouds... It'll never happen. _


	20. Chapter 20

"Well... say _somethin'_." Andy begged after a long moment of silence. I was standing five feet away, with my back to him. He couldn't see or hear the tears rolling down my cheeks; of which, I was glad. I didn't want to say anything. I wanted to walk away and never look back. It would be so much simpler if I could've walked away at that moment. Everything would be so much less complicated. If I could leave him and this life behind, I would.

But I couldn't. Because when the heart makes a choice, there is no going back. The heart can't commit half way; it's only all or nothing. Any choice I made, or had made, was done. I couldn't go back and change it, only look forward and try to suffer through any of the hurdles it placed in my way. So here I was, standing nearly a yard away from the boy who I loved more than anything. And the only thing I could do was to take to a deep breath and barrel headlong into the future, praying that somehow, by some miracle, I ended up in _his _arms.

Besides, there was no way to leave without questions. Andy would follow me, and it'd only convolute things more. So, instead, I locked up my heart and shut down my brain. It was as if I injected Novocain into my bloodstream, because with a conscious effort, I numbed every part of my body. My feelings became dull and disinterested, my heart slowed and became more tranquil and a deep fog seemed to settle over my brain, making every thought hazy and discombobulated.

With a deep sigh, every part of me was swept back into a corner, until I was an empty shell. It was self-preservation; I couldn't take any more abuse. So my mind and heart were saving themselves, and had retreated into hiding. In its place, there was nothing. I was bleak and dreary and my eyes glazed over at the emptiness. Every thought of Andy and of Naomi or Brandon appeared, but was instantly sucked into a vacuum, where it would be stored for later, when I could think through it. Right now, any thought that would cause more pain was potent and must be avoided.

Andy was still waiting...

I inhaled again, and with as much inflection as I could muster through the emptiness, I asked, "How do you... How can you be so... _What do you mean?_" My sentences were cut off midstream as they passed through the radar my mind had set up. If it sensed that one of my questions would cause a heart-breaking answer, it cut the words off midsentence.

"Peyton Maye," Andy began, walking around to me so that he could face me. I turned my head to the side, hoping that he wouldn't be able to see the moisture on my face. Andy didn't seem to notice as he continued, "I know that it's kinda' soon... Well, _maybe not._ Afta' all, we have been datin' for five months, so that ain't _real _soon." I nodded without a word. "To be honest, I don't really know _when _I fell for 'er; I just know that one day I woke up 'n all I wanted t'do was t'be with 'er, right at _that _very moment. I didn't care 'bout eatin' o' nothin'; I just wanted t'hold 'er."

My heart broke out of the numbness for a moment to throb painfully at his words. I gulped, and grit my teeth. He couldn't see this- the pain his words caused. "Con... Conti... _continue._" I forced myself to say through a clenched jaw.

"Ya' sure you're alright?" Andy pressed, looking critically at me.

"Yeah... I'm fine," I lied.

"Well... I was'a gonna' tell 'er when we got back, because I wasn't positive that I loved _'er _for sure. And I was'a just 'bout t'come talk t'ya' 'bout it, when Millie found me, tellin' me that you'd run off int' th'woods 'n hadn't come back yet." _The phone call with Brandon, _I thought. "T'be honest, in that moment, any thought o' Naomi vanished 'n all I wanted t'do was'a find ya'. But when I did, watchin' ya' _break down _in my arms- watchin' ya' cry your heart out ova' a guy who don't even deserve ya' spittin' in his direction... _seein' _that- Peyton Maye, it broke my heart. Because ya' are _so _wonderful-" _Please stop, _I begged him in my head, unable to control the tear that slipped out. It streaked down my cheek, and Andy gasped.

"Don't cry! I don't mean t'make ya' cry." He didn't know how much value that sentence held in my ears. He was the reason I was crying. He was the reason that I was numb all over. But... I couldn't blame him for this. Because in the long run, it all came back to me. _If I hadn't left... _I thought. _If I had just stayed here, where I belonged. _This numb thing wasn't working very well, apparently.

I just shook my head, hoping that Andy would ramble on some more about Naomi. For once, I _wanted _him to talk about her because I needed a second to collect myself. I needed to pull myself together if I was going to walk out of here in one piece.

"Uhm," Andy whispered for a moment, still looking worriedly at me. "And I guess... seein' ya' cry like that and bein' _so _broken- it just made me so much surer that I loved 'er. Because seein' ya', I knew that I'd neva' want her t'feel like that. I'd neva' wanna' cause that. I realized in that moment that I loved 'er, Peyton Maye. It was'a holdin' ya', because-"

I couldn't take it anymore, knowing that while I was in his arms, he was realizing that he loved someone else. I couldn't take it. I just couldn't do it. So I met his eyes, "That sounds great. Really, _really _great, Andy." My voice was like ice and my eyes were dark.

Andy shook his head, "You're _not_ alright, what's up?"

"I told you I'm fine," I whispered. "Can we go back? I'm ready to go." I didn't want to stand here anymore. I didn't want to hear any of this.

"Yeah... _yes,_ sure." He replied, letting me pass. I walked, briskly, back to Ace and clambered up onto his back. I didn't care if I was going the right way, but I dug my heels into Ace's side and took off. The trees' beauty had worn off and they looked like nothing but a green blur. The sky was dull and the sun seemed _too _bright. I was so over all of this. I just wanted to crawl into bed, under the covers, and never come out again. Andy and the bay mare were trailing close. "Peyton Maye!" He called once; I didn't listen, only urged Ace on. "_Peyton Maye!" _Andy demanded loudly, directing the bay mare in front of me. He pulled her to a stop and Ace reared up a bit to avoid colliding with her.

I lost my balance and fell off of Ace's back, landing with a thud onto the ground. "What the _hell_, Andy?" I demanded, rising to wipe the dirt off of me.

"We're not goin' back until ya' tell me what's wrong with ya'!" Andy retorted.

"_I said nothing was wrong with me. Alright Andy? And I'm not lying. I'm _fine." I hissed.

"Ya' don't look fine!" he whispered.

"I know. I know I look like crap. That's what happens when your love life is _ripped _apart, Andy. But you wouldn't know, would you? Because you're _in love._ It's crap, Andy! She's no good! You shouldn't be with someone like her, and you know it!" As soon as I said it, I regretted it.

"Well there ya' go, what you've been wantin' t'say for th'past month!" Andy hissed. "Ya' just don't _like _her." He had it so wrong, he thought that I was upset that he was in love with Naomi because I didn't like her. He was _so _wrong. He didn't realize that I was only upset because I wanted to _be _Naomi. I wanted Andy to love _me._ That's why I was upset. But I couldn't tell Andy that. I could only try to undo what I'd just said.

"No, Andy.. That's not what I meant!" I stammered.

"That's exactly what ya' meant, Peyton Maye. Ya' just can't see me happy, can ya'? If it ain't _Peyton Maye, _then it don't matta'! Well, wake up dawlin', my world ain't all 'bout _ya'_; there are _otha' _people. 'N Naomi is one o'em."

"What are you talking about Andy?" I begged.

"Ya' know what, it don't even matta'. We're ova', 'n for once in my life, I'm _glad! _And t'be honest Peyton Maye, ya' and I were a mistake! A very bad one that I wish I'd _neva' made_!" My jaw dropped, and I blinked rapidly trying to stop the instant tears. His words sliced so deep into me that I didn't think I'd survive. He'd just crossed a line that I'd never even _drawn, _because I never thought he'd say something like that_._ But it'd suddenly appeared and he'd danced over it, seemingly happily. I looked up at Andy, seeing that he _knew _the impact of his last sentence.

I could also see that he wasn't about to apologize. With a stern look, he pulled the bay mare's reins and trotted off, leaving me standing next to Ace, heartbroken. Ace snorted, and stamped his foot impatiently. I didn't have the energy to climb back up onto Ace's back, so instead I just started walking forward. Ace followed me, keeping pace with my steps. "I don't know boy," I whispered, looking over at him. "I don't know what's wrong with me either. Why is it that all the boys I want don't understand? Why is it that they all don't want me?"

Ace wasn't paying attention. He'd become more interested in a leaf and stopped. "Come on, boy.. We've got to get back." But he didn't follow. With a sigh, I grabbed his rein and roughly pulled him forward. "I said _let's go._" The voice in my head told me to calm down, I was angry at the wrong thing. Ace didn't deserve to bear my frustration, no one did. No one other than myself.

I arrived back to the house, and could hear all their voices through the open kitchen window. Their laughter and loud conversation was light and airy, and Andy's husky voice was audible through the chatter. He didn't sound upset, in fact, he cracked a joke or two. I put Ace away and turned to walk into the house. _Would they know? _I thought, despairingly. I hoped not. I didn't want to cause any more drama, because lately, that's all I seemed to lug around with me.

The door creaked as I walked in, and they all turned to look at me. I gave a small smile and shut the screen door behind me. Millie was mid-laugh, holding a finger covered in raw cookie dough inches from her face. Tommy had a hand on the egg carton and Arlene was greasing a pan. Andy sat at the kitchen counter, clicking away on his phone. And Charlie sauntered in from the back room. _They were making cookies together, _I thought with a pang of sadness. _And here I am, intruding. _The feeling in my gut was not a happy one, and it seemed to weight me down. _Why were they all so silent? Why had they stopped talking? _

Then, I realized that they'd resumed their conversations. Nothing had stopped, they'd only wanted to see who was at the door. Once they'd realized it was me, they'd resumed whatever they were doing. Charlie was now pulling Millie's finger towards him, trying to grab the bite of cookie dough away from her for himself. Arlene was scooping the batter out in tablespoon-sized dollops onto the pan. Andy was still on his phone, but I saw a small smile spread across his face. _He must be talking to Naomi_, I thought with sadness.

"Ya' joinin' us, Peyton Maye?" Tommy asked me, throwing a dishtowel my way. It startled me as it flew past, just centimeters away from my nose. I laughed and dipped to pick it up, only to throw it back in his face. I walked past Andy without a word or even a glance in his direction and bent over the counter to swipe an ounce of cookie dough out of the bowl.

"_Hey!_" Arlene objected, swatting at my hand. "Save _some_ ya'll! It's for th'party!"

"Party?" I asked. "What party?"

"Do ya' rememba' that Duke I danced with at Bill Montgomery's pig-pickin'?" Arlene smiled, waving the spoon she was using in the air.

"Uh huh," I replied, drawing my response out with a smile. Duke was the football player who'd been too bashful to ask Arlene to dance at first, but by the end of the night, from what I could remember, they'd ended on good terms.

"He's actually up here for th'week, too. Him 'n some o' his buddies ride 'round here somewhere. They own a little cottage down a lane 'bout a mile down th'main road. I got a call from 'em 'bout five minutes afta' ya' left, invitin' all o' us t'a party they're throwin' tonight."

"Who's all going?" I inquired, trying to imagine a party with the six of us and a group of guys.

"Apparently, they're a lotta' people from back home 'ere for th'weekend. So a buncha' kids who we all grew up with'll be there."

"Oh..." I said. Honestly, I wasn't up for any sort of party tonight. After the few days I'd had, I didn't really want to go anywhere but bed.

"Well ya' _are _comin', ain't ya'? Tommy, Millie, Charlie 'n me are all goin', ya' gotta' come with us!" Arlene cooed. I narrowed my eyes, questioningly, in her direction and tilted my head towards Andy. She shrugged and mouthed, _He said he didn't wanna' go. Dunno' why_...

I did. He was mad at me, and so he wasn't going to go anywhere upset. _Whatever, _I thought. _It doesn't matter. If Andy wants me to go away, I'll just go to that party- and I'll forget all about him. I'm supposed to be having fun, anyway. What's more fun than a teenage party with no parents? _I couldn't think of anything.

Arlene saw this in my face and smiled, "Good! It's all settled then. We're leavin' at 'bout 8:30, somewhere in there."

"What time is it now?" Millie asked Charlie.

"Uhh... 'bout noon, I guess." He said, looking over at Tommy who nodded in agreement.

"Wow, what are we going to do until 8:30?" Millie whispered, laughing at something Charlie must have done that we all missed.

"Anotha' ride?" Arlene posed. Everyone looked at each other, except for Andy, who hadn't pulled his nose out of his phone for the past five minutes. The looks on all of our faces pretty much shot down that idea.

"We really need to go get groceries for the week," Millie offered, looking between Arlene and I.

"And there's a big game comin' on in 'bout 20 minutes," Charlie added.

"So it's settled then; we'll head out, let you boys have the house to yourselves for a little bit and then we'll meet back up to leave tonight. Sound good?" I asked. Everyone nodded and we all began to part our separate ways. Millie pulled Charlie back into their room for a moment, and Arlene was instructing Tommy on what to do when the cookies were baked. I was left awkwardly standing next to Andy, who was ignoring me. I looked over at him, hoping that he'd look up.

He didn't.

I took a deep breath, knowing that I needed to say two words: _I'm sorry. _They were on the tip of my tongue, right there, and I opened my mouth to put a voice behind the words.

Andy cut me off, "Don't talk t'me, Peyton Maye. Just leave." My apology evaporated into the air and I turned, shaking my head.

"You know, Andy..." I whispered over my shoulder. There was so much I wanted to say in that moment. _I love you. Choose me. Was I really a mistake? Why aren't you talking to me now? _So many things bubbled up into my mouth. But I couldn't force myself to say them. So instead, I sighed and shook my head again.

Then without a word, I turned and walked up the stairs, wanting to look in a mirror before I went out in public. Andy let me go, without even asking me what I was going to say.

The three of us girls left a few moments later in Charlie's truck. We drove with the windows rolled down and the music turned up. Our hair flew wildly in our faces and we sat with solemn expressions on our face. The thoughts in each of our brains were different and no one was brave enough to speak up yet. I sat in the passenger seat, letting the wind sweep my hair back out of my face. The music pounded in my ears and drowned out all thoughts of Andy or Brandon or whoever. Finally, I saw Millie reach over and turn the radio off.

Her next question was expected, "Peyton Maye, _what is wrong with Andy?_" Arlene leaned forward, nodding.

"We got in a fight, you guys. A _bad _fight."

"How bad?" Arlene demanded.

"Bad enough that he said me and him dating was a mistake..." I whispered. Both the girls gasped and exchanged a look.

"Oh my god, Peyton Maye! I'm so sorry!" Millie said, clearly shaken. "You don't think he means it, do you?"

"_Millie!_" Arlene cried. "How could ya' say somethin' like that?" I looked at Arlene, who shot Millie a disgusted glance.

"I didn't mean _that!_ I just meant that do ya' think he _meant _to say it_ like _that?"

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

"Maybe what he meant to say was that all of this drama you two have had was a mistake..." she offered, clearly embarrassed by her slip. I didn't show my anger as much as Arlene had, who was shaking her head in the back seat.

I loved Millie dearly, and I loved her blunt personality. But at the moment, her comment was the _last _thing I needed. _Of course he didn't mean it, _the voice in the back of my head was trying to tell me. _Don't be ridiculous, of course it was just him being mad. He was trying to hurt me; he didn't really mean it. _

And my reassurance was comforting, somewhat. Still, Millie bit her lip and blushed. "Sorry, Peyton Maye. I know that's not what you needed to hear."

"It's okay," I told her. "It's better than my conversation with Andy."

"What else did he say?" Arlene asked.

I sighed and tried to pull the numbness back over me like a blanket. "That he loves Naomi," I whispered, trying desperately not to cry. "It's all over now. He _loves _her."

"Jesus-" Arlene whistled. "That's bad."

"You're telling me," I chuckled. "I don't know what I'm going to do..."

"Well... Obviously, ya' gotta' get him back!" Arlene cried fiercely. Millie nodded in agreement.

"_How?_" I demanded, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "Don't you think that if I knew _how_, I would? But how can I compete with Naomi if he loves her?"

"Peyton Maye," Millie said seriously. "We all know that Andy still loves you, too. Everyone can see it. Hell, we all want you two to end up together." They didn't know how badly I wanted us to end up together, too. But Millie was wrong; Andy said that he was over me. He'd _said _it to my face, without even blinking. They had it wrong, he didn't love me now. Only I loved him.

"I don't know, you guys. I really just _don't _know." It was the only thing I could say. Everything seemed so complicated. Had all the choices I'd made really led to _this_? Not knowing what to do? People always said that when one door closes, another opens. And if that fails, use a window. But I couldn't see any way out. There was no door open- both, with Brandon and Andy, had closed simultaneously. I'd slammed the door with Brandon shut, only to turn around and see Andy pull his door closed in front of my face. And in doing so, he shut out all the light- leaving me blind, trying to scrounge my way around looking for a window.

"Well- I know _this_," Arlene interjected, patting my shoulder. "We're gonna' go t'that party tonight, 'n find ya' a boy t'call your own. No strings; no nothin'." She laughed. "With 'im, ya' can dance th'night away 'n maybe steal a kiss o' two."

"I don't want any random guy," I told her. "I just want Andy."

"It's not 'bout what ya' _want_, it's 'bout what ya' need," she chuckled again. I could see the gears in her brain churning, but couldn't follow her train of thought.

"What do you mean?" I asked her, scrutinizing her expression. "I don't _need _any guy that _isn't _Andy. What part of I love him are you not getting?"

"No no, it's not what _ya' _need, it's what Andy needs t'see just how crazy he still is 'bout _ya'._"

"What?" Millie and I asked at the same time, and I swiveled around to look Arlene dead in the face.

She chuckled and leaned forward. "Girls, we're on a mission: _Plan "Get Andy Back t'Peyton Maye"_. We're gonna' doll ya' up; make ya' look like a million bucks. 'N at that party, we're gonna' find ya' th'_hottest _guy for ya'. 'N you're gonna' have th'most fun any girl has ever had in his arms. 'N trust me, ya' will. I hear all th'boys Duke's friends with are _real _nice. 'N Andy is just gonna' _die_ when he sees ya' with someone else."

"He's not going," Millie whispered. "Don't you remember?"

"It don't matta'; when he _hears_ that Peyton Maye was'a with someone _else_, he'll go insane. Ya' know it, Millie. That's just _Andy_."

"Arlene..." I mumbled. "It won't work."

"Yes it will," she replied, with a devious gleam in her eye. "We're gonna' make Andy _so _jealous, that he won't know what t'do with himself... 'N, Peyton Maye. Who will he run right back t'? No one otha' than…?"

"_You!_" Millie cackled, finally cracking a smile. I assumed that she was now on board with this operation. She and Arlene exchanged glances in the rearview mirror.

I was glad that they were so sure about this, because in my mind, this night was _not _going to go as planned. I just hoped, with everything I had, that this was the window I had been searching for. I hoped that it wasn't the key that would lock me in… _forever._


	21. Chapter 21

We arrived at the party by nine, and after five hours of doing nothing, we were ready to let loose. Duke greeted us at the door, giving Arlene a smile that would have melted my heart like butter had it been directed my way. He was dressed in khakis and a tight black tee-shirt. "Come on in," he laughed, stepping to the side to allow us to pass. Arlene straggled behind, making sure that she was the last to pass through the door. Her hair was pulled back out of her face in ringlets, and she shook her head a bit to make them bounce. Cocking an eyebrow, she gave Duke a flirtatious smile; one that he returned.

The bass pumped loud music into our bloodstreams and we became more limber with every step we took. Tommy veered off to the kitchen, hoping to find out what was in the red cups everyone was holding. The place was packed, wall to wall, with teenagers. Everyone was laughing, engrossed in their own conversations. But even while chattering, everyone's hips swayed to the deep beat pulsing out of the two stereos at the far end of the living room.

I dragged Millie around a wall that divided the living room from the rest of the house, trying to ask her a question. "Are you sure about this? I don't know how foolproof this plan is." All throughout our grocery shopping and rest of the day, us three girls had managed to devise a plan that would somehow end up with Andy crawling back to me on bended knee, as Arlene had so graciously put it. And all of their talk about how perfect Andy and I would be had somehow lulled me into their mindset. I found myself agreeing with them and even offering suggestions for the night's agenda. "No, no... I think that we should be coyerwhen we tell Andy. We can't say it _directly _to him; we have to just let him overhear us."

Both girls had nodded feverishly in agreement. "She's right," they whispered, looking happily at me as they dolled me up. I was in a tight, very short, jean skirt with a low cut gray tee-shirt. My thick, normally curly hair was straight and smooth, arranged stylishly around my face.

And my eyes, normally makeup-less, were accentuated with dark, thick eyelashes and lined with a bold stripe of eyeliner. I'd hardly recognized myself in the mirror after Millie and Arlene were finished with me. However, I didn't stand out much from them- as they were dressed the same. Millie was in a short, tight sundress that had provoked a smile out of Charlie and Arlene was in tight white shorts and a tank top. Before tonight, I'd always thought I was pretty, but after watching multiple pairs of eyes follow the three of us enter, I was feeling _hot_ tonight.

But even through all of that, I couldn't stomach this new nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was that little voice telling me, _go home stupid. Get the hell out of here. _I peeked back around the corner, scanning the crowd. The party wasn't in full swing yet, and probably wouldn't be for another hour or so, but as crowded as it was now- it was only going to get wilder. This night was going to be interesting, with or without my presence, I knew as much already. The question I had to answer now was whether or not I wanted to be here for all of it.

"You've got to stop _worrying, _Peyton Maye. That's your problem, you know- just let loose for once. Stop overthinking all of this. This is a _party_!" Millie screamed over the music. She gave me a look that told me to shut up about it or leave. Millie needed a party about as much as I did, and was here to cut loose for a night. Charlie rounded the wall with Tommy, both boys carrying two cups, handing Millie and I each one.

I looked down into at the liquid, a deep ruby and asked, "What is it?"

"Dunno' know, don't care!" Tommy laughed, taking a huge gulp out of his cup. I looked over to see Millie take a tentative sip and smile.

She looked up at Charlie, who met her gaze with a smile. "Wanna' dance?" He asked her, not waiting for a reply. Instead, he grabbed her hand and pulled her around the corner. I leaned sideways to see Millie sway so close into Charlie that it looked as though they were one person. Charlie put a hand low on her hip and matched her rhythm. Something told me that they wouldn't separate for the entire night, at least not by choice.

Tommy shot me a sideways glance, "Shall we join 'em, Ms. Hale?" I turned to him, cocking my head to the side. He gave me a lopsided smile and held out his hand. I looked down at my drink again and took a sniff. It smelled fruity, but the sharp stench of alcohol filled my nose. It was spiked_. _

I didn't drink, never had and probably never would. Nothing about alcohol looked appealing to me. And until this point, I would've guessed that none of the rest of our group did. But by the looks of it, Tommy was going to be sloshed before the clock struck midnight. Peering closer into his face, I could see the red veins of his eyes stand out more prominent, and his whole face had an unnatural sheen to it. My first reaction was repulsion and I wanted to leave then. But then my maternal instincts set in; as disappointed as I was in Tommy that he was drinking, illegally, I wasn't going to leave him at a party alone. How would he get home? How would any of them get home? Millie had already taken a sip and I was sure that Charlie was drinking, too. So the role of designated driver fell effortlessly into my lap.

Then finally, Millie's words rang in my ear. _You've got to stop worrying. Stop overthinking all of this._ I repeated them over and over, letting their effect wash over me. _Stop thinking_, I whispered to myself. _Just let it go and have fun. _

Letting go, mixed with the beat of the music, did the trick and I looked up to meet Tommy's eyes with a dark glance. Tommy was like a brother to me, and I didn't want to go _there _in anyway. "It's just dancing," I told him. And I meant it; he wasn't going to get anywhere if he tried for anything else. "No funny business."

"Not a thing," he vowed, smiling. I looked Tommy over once, realizing just how _cute _he was. His dark hair, his thick neck, his long and ripped body- maybe it was just the party, and maybe it was just this skirt that was cutting circulation off to my brain, but Tommy was looking _good_ tonight. "No funny business," I whispered again, but this time... it was more to myself than Tommy.

He smiled wider and grabbed my arm, leading me out into the middle of the living room. We'd been there maybe 10 minutes, but the living room had somehow become even more packed with people. Girls danced with girls; guys danced with girls and some guys just chilled in the corner.

I looked for Duke and Arlene, and spotted them in the corner, sitting on a couch. Duke had an arm slung around Arlene's shoulders and she rested a hand on his knee. He yelled something in her ear and she nodded, smiling. Without another word, they rose off the couch and headed for the kitchen. As Tommy pulled me into him, running his hands down my sides onto my hips, I looked for Millie and Charlie.

Somehow, they'd drifted to off to the side of the room, where they were enveloped in their own little world. Thankfully, they were still dancing, and hadn't moved onto a sloppy makeout session. I turned my attention back to Tommy and I, letting the music guide my hips. Tommy's face was millimeters away from mine and he rested his chin on my shoulder. "Ya' look amazin' tonight, Peyton Maye," he told me. "I wish I was th'lucky one t'get ya'."

"You'd better shut up, pretty boy," I replied, yanking his hand up from the hem of my skirt. "You're like a brother to me, and you're grossing me out." I was lying; his compliment was nice. Still, anything with Tommy would be weird and feel oddly incestual.

But the music changed, to a constant, hearty downbeat that shook the entire house, and Tommy sank even closer next to me. _Let go_, I told myself, and relaxed back into his chest. We rocked side to side with every pulse of the music, and I slid my hand back around his head, nearly twisting around to kiss him. The feeling of incest held me back, thankfully. And I laughed at my own silliness. Tommy asked me what it was, but I ignored his question, trying to keep in time with the music.

Millie caught my eye with a questioning look, and tapped Charlie on the arm. He looked over at us and laughed, shaking his head at Millie. "_Don't worry,_" I saw him mouth. She gave me a hard frown, but shrugged.

I knew that what I was doing was wrong, but Tommy should know, better than any _one _of these boys that what we were doing now was nothing. He knew I still had feelings for Andy, and he thought, like everyone else that Andy probably still had feelings for me.

The alcohol in his system was guiding his actions now, and I was counting on him to forget that this ever happened. It would make tomorrow morning a lot less awkward. Tommy was going strong on the spiked punch, and downed his cup in one swallow. With a deliberate pressure, he raked a finger up my thigh, sending chills up my spine.

"Tommy," I warned, pushing his hand back. He laughed and put his hand, safely, back onto my hip.

"Relax," he purred in my ear. "I'm just havin' some _fun_." His words were slurred and the smell of alcohol was strong in his breath.

Luckily, the tempo of the music increased to an almost dubstep beat. The crowd circled closer together and I let go of Tommy to dance faster. I knew the song by heart and screamed every line, along with every other person in the room. We were jumping up and down by the chorus, pumping our hands in the air. At one point, there was a pause in the song and all of us froze. Not moving, I scanned the crowd again, noticing a lone boy in the corner. He was staring at me, and grinning. His brown hair was wavy and was cut right above his ears. Even from far away, I could see how pitch black his eyes were. Their gaze was unnervingly intense and directed straight into my face. Something about the boy was oddly familiar, but I couldn't put a finger on it.

The music picked up again, but I didn't move. And this mystery boy laughed. It was only when Tommy lightly tapped my shoulder in between leaps off the ground that I pulled my eyes away from the boy. But all through the rest of the song and into the beginning of the next one, I was aware of the boy's dark eyes on my face. When I allowed myself to look in his direction again, he was gone. _Oh well, _I told myself. _You didn't know him anyway_.

"Wanna' take a break?" I heard Tommy scream into my ear over the latest song that was playing. It was one of those where the singer just _oohed _and _ahhed _without actually singing any lyrics. The beat was good, but other than that, there wasn't much of a song.

Tommy wasn't tired, I could see it on his face. But his cup was empty and he'd been edging closer to me since we'd started dancing. I knew what two things he wanted, neither of which I was willing to leave this dance floor for. "No, I'm alright," I yelled back and went back to dancing.

He shrugged and waded out of the giant crowd, disappearing from my sight. I tried to move more towards the center of the group where I could see a group of girls dancing, hoping to blend in before Tommy came back for round two. The more I danced with him, the more uncomfortable I felt. It didn't have anything to do with Tommy, and if I wasn't in love with his best friend and best friends with his sister, I'd probably have been all over him. But because of those two factors and the fact that I'd known Tommy since he was wetting his bed, I didn't want to be around him anymore.

Somewhere, mid turn, I found myself thinking of Andy. I was picturing him sitting next to me in his truck and giving me a lopsided grin. It was the image of perfection; he was so perfect. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to run back to the house and apologize. I wanted to throw my arms around him and just melt into his embrace.

Then I remembered that I couldn't… because he wasn't speaking to me. And that pain that this thought caused me was nearly unbearable. It felt like a thousand pins suddenly found their way into my skin and were sinking deeper and deeper down into my flesh. I prayed briefly that the numbness would return, so I could enjoy the rest of the party and tried to force myself to let go, but relief evaded me.

_Make him want you!_ I screeched in my head, trying to twist the words so that they said, _he wants you_. I couldn't. I didn't know if I would ever see those three words arranged in that order. But I did know one thing I could do tonight… I could make Andy jealous; if I tried hard enough, I could make any guy in here want me. With this skirt, I was invincible.

So I melted into the middle of a group of girls with a smile and they each returned it. One girl with the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen leaned over and yelled in my ear, "I noticed when ya' walked in 'n I just wanted t'say that ya' have t'be one of th'prettiest girls here."

"Thanks!" I yelled back, giving her a wide smile. "And you're really pretty, yourself." With that, she pulled me more into the center and we began to dance. "I'm Peyton Maye," I told her.

"Sarah," she replied and twirled out in a circle. As we danced, I kept glancing back at the corner where the boy had been. He hadn't returned to his spot and I hoped that he hadn't left the party. Arlene tapped my shoulder and told me that she was heading out back with Duke. I scanned her face, and knew that she was gone.

With a giddy smile, she kissed my cheek and danced off to Duke, who stood waiting at the edge of the dancing crowd. He leaned down and kissed her deeply before leading her out back. _Please don't do anything stupid, _I begged Arlene in my head. The last thing I needed was to find Arlene in a very compromising situation with a boy she hardly knew.

Sarah said something that I didn't catch, but I turned my attention back to the song, throwing myself enthusiastically into the beat of the music. We danced for a couple of songs without any further exchange of words until she put a hand on my elbow and leaned in to say, "There is a boy who won't stop lookin' at ya', he can't keep his eyes offa' ya'."

"Oh- the one with black hair? That's Tommy. He's one of my friends." I cringed internally, not wanting to have to send Tommy away. I was hoping that while he went to refill his cup, he'd find some pretty girl who didn't know him- someone that he could flirt with, who wouldn't have to ask him to pass the sugar at the breakfast table the next morning.

"Uhm, well yeah, but th'one with black hair stopped lookin' for ya' 'bout 10 minutes ago. This one has brown hair, 'n th'weirdest eyes." I stopped dancing, knowing that it was the boy from the corner. With a deliberate slowness, I turned. My heart leapt in my chest to see that the boy from the corner was less than three feet away from me, and had that same half grin on his face.

I returned his grin with a smile and took a step towards him. "Want to dance?" he asked me, with a very clear, very deep voice. There was no southern accent or inflection of any sort.

"Sure," I replied, smiling wider. Whoever he was, or wherever he was from didn't really matter. He was cute- _really _cute- and wanted to dance with me. He held out a hand and I slipped mine in to it, letting him twirl me around into him. Without a word, he took my hands and raised them above my head, along with his. In my ear, he whispered, "I'm Julian."

"Peyton Maye," I replied, laughing. Julian was a good dancer, and took complete control, leading my movements with his hips. The song was slower, but Julian was dancing to some exotic tempo of his own. It was a complicated rhythm, but in his arms, I had no trouble keeping up. We didn't speak anymore, only danced. Thankfully, he didn't try to kiss me or anything. He just danced. And from what I could tell, Julian wasn't drunk. He smelled like laundry detergent, probably from a newly washed shirt. His arms were strong around me and I could feel his ripped body pressed against my back. He was attractive and, I realized with a gasp, the perfect candidate to make Andy jealous.

_Can I do this? _I asked myself. _Can I use someone to make Andy jealous? _The song slowed into a slow dance and Julian spun me out into a wide circle, only to pull me back into his arms, only this time, so that I was face to face with him. The look in his eyes had cooled from intense to lustful and I smiled, "So tell me Julian, who are you?"

"Does it matter, Peyton Maye?" He asked, and his response solidified my resolve. _Yes, I could do this. Getting Andy back starts now, Peyton Maye. So make it good. _

"No… Not really," I giggled, narrowing my eyes and shimmying closer to Julian. At that moment, I looked past his face towards the door that had just opened, for just a split second. At first, the boy in a tight white tee-shirt and loose, worn jeans seemed like any other boy. It wasn't until I looked again that I realized _who _it was.

I saw Millie, still in Charlie's arms, shoot a frantic glance my way. I returned a cool smile, trying to tell her not to worry. I could handle this- in fact, it helped. We wouldn't have to tell Andy about the party later, because he could just watch it for himself...

Andy met my gaze with a surprised look, but I quickly pulled my attention back to Julian. Without missing a beat, I ran my hand around Julian's neck and pulled him closer. "Kiss me," I told him. "And make it count. Tonight, we're putting on a show for a little _friend _of mine."

Julian laughed, before running a finger under my chin and skimmed his nose along my jawline. "O'course, babe. It'd be my pleasure." He purred in my ear, and I wrapped both arms around his neck and let him dip me back. Without another word, he kissed me. And right before my eyes slid closed, I saw Andy's jaw drop wide open.

_And he'll come runnin' back on bended knee… _I heard Arlene's voice chime in my ear. _God I hope so, _I thought in my head. _Otherwise, I just dug my way into a very deep hole that will be impossible to climb out of. _


	22. Chapter 22

I barely had time to close my eyes in Julian's arms when feelings of disgust washed over me like a tsunami. I was suddenly knocked breathless by its force- _what was I doing? _Kissing a stranger at a party would not bring me any closer to getting Andy back. In fact, it would only lessen the likelihood. In this instant, I only looked like a whore- far from the Peyton Maye that Andy once loved. This was a mistake; all of this. The plan that we had concocted was far from foolproof and I was finally beginning to see its flaws.

With a small smile, I pulled away from Julian and took a step out of his embrace. He straightened, tilting his head in confusion. I stared deep into his shocking eyes, wondering what this encounter would've evolved into had I not been madly in love with someone else. Would we have continued throughout the night? Would I have given him my number so that he could call me? Would he call me? From that first phone call, would we have slowly embarked on a relationship? In a year, or two years, would I still be with him- still look up into those eyes- and call him mine? There were so many questions and I realized that I would never know the answer to any of them.

I felt nothing for this boy in front of me. My heart did not skip a beat or flutter anxiously in my chest around him. Julian could walk out of my life right now and I would leave the same person. _So, _I asked myself, _why then am I kissing him? Why am I in his arms, if in an hour, we'll part ways never to see each other again? _

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I can't do this." I needed to let this plan go. It was time to grow up, and stop acting like a five year old. Andy didn't want me, and I didn't know if he ever would again. He was happy with Naomi and I had no business meddling in his relations. His heart did not belong to me, and I was not desperate enough to try to steal it back. Loving Andy meant that I wanted him to be happy, as I'd repeated to myself multiple times over. I'd told myself that I would let him go, without- I realized- ever _truly _meaning it. In the back of my mind, I'd never actually thought that I would have to. Because, part of me always hoped, that he'd never given up on me.

However, it seemed that now we'd switched roles. When I'd first left, Andy was the one who was unable to move on. He'd pined after me, and would've done anything to get me back- or so it'd appeared. Meanwhile, I'd run out of his arms into Brandon's. With Brandon, Andy was locked away. If Andy would've shown up a month after Brandon confessed his love for me, I would've treated him as a friend. And yes, the energy between Andy and I would've been much more then platonic, but I would've never acted on it.

Andy and I would never be able to be _just _friends- I knew that, even now. Our love had been too pure and too perfect to ever boil down into anything close to friendship. We would always been on extreme ends of a relationship- either madly in love, or hating each other. I suddenly understood so many things at once. When I'd come here, still loving my "perfect" Brandon, I'd tried to be Andy's friend. However, when that failed, we switched poles- and turned to hating each other. _Well_, I laughed to myself_, we never hated each other. It was just a facade we put up_.

We would never be friends. I could never be his friends, especially not now, knowing that I loved him. But I could pretend. I would have to if I wanted him to remain in my life. I think that somewhere deep in Andy's mind, he knew this, too. And that when I'd arrived for the summer, he was trying to accept that we still loved each other. Even if he was in love with Naomi, he had to felt something. And he'd tried to embrace that. He'd tried to embrace both his feelings for Naomi and me. But it was all in vain, because it was impossible. He would inevitably have to choose, as I had to.

However, rather than choose his first love, as I did, he chose Naomi. I would have to accept that. I couldn't fight it, because I knew it would change nothing. My feelings for Andy mirrored his feelings for Naomi. And as nothing would change how I felt for Andy, nothing would change how he felt for Naomi. It was all very confusing, yet, somehow- it made perfect sense. And it was clear that this plan we three girls had cooked up would not work. It would only make me look like a fool. Laughing, I met Julian's eyes.

"But we were having so much fun," he cooed, sliding a hand across my hip. He tried to pull me forward, but I stiffened. It was then, peering closer, that I saw how red his eyes were. His response, I noted, was slurred. And I could smell alcohol on his breath.

_He was drunk_.

From all my experience with drunken teenagers, I knew that no amount of innocent rejection could convince him that I didn't want to waste my night, lip-locked, in his arms. "I just can't..." I said, in a slightly firmer voice. With a pat on his shoulder, I turned and started to make my way through the crowd. Our entire exchange- the dance, the kiss, and now our separation- lasted no longer than fifteen minutes. Yet, it felt as if I'd been with him for hours.

I had yet to sneak a glance towards the door where Andy'd entered from. I couldn't meet his eyes now, not when I knew they were only full of repulsion. The crowd around me did not separate easily, and I had not managed to take two steps in, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Another hand snaked around my waist and I was pulled, roughly, into Julian's chest. His humid breath tickled my neck and I tried to pull away. "Let go of me," I demanded, trying to turn.

"I wasn't done with you," he hissed and I felt him place a wet kiss on my neck. His hands caught my wrists and I was suddenly unable to twist around. We were in the middle of people who were not paying attention to us, and the music was too loud to distinguish my shouts as angry, rather than just a loud party-goer. If he kept me in this position, I was helpless.

"Julian," I hissed back. "This is silly. I don't want to be with you right now. We don't know each other, and I want to leave."

"You're not going anywhere until you kiss me again," he growled. I knew that voice, I knew that he was familiar. But I couldn't place a finger on it. "Besides, you're too pretty." The words slid out like slime and the realization hit me like brick, this was the kid who had been with Ron and the college creep who'd messed with Naomi and me. I'd broken his friend's nose. Fear ran up my spine and I broke out into a cold sweat. This kid was dangerous, after what I'd seen with the Naomi incident. And he was drunk, to make things worse.

"Please..." I begged, my voice breaking. Julian sensed my fear, and I felt his grip tighten. His hips rocked us back and forth to the beat, so it looked like we were dancing. The only thing that would've alerted anyone was the worried look I wore. But in the middle of this crowd, we were concealed.

"Come upstairs with me," he said, tracing a tendon in my neck with his tongue. I shivered.

"Let me go!" I cried, and threw my arms down, breaking his grasp. In my fear, a trick that Grandmama had taught me popped into my brain. If an attacker was to grab my arms from behind, so that they were crossed across my body, I could simply throw my arms out, palms down, and I would be free. It'd worked every time I'd practiced with Grandmama, until she was convinced that I was safe from future rapists, and it'd just worked now with Julian.

He leapt forward to grab me, but was pulled roughly backwards by the collar. I looked up to see Andy holding him by the back of his shirt, with another hand wrapped around his throat. The crowd dispersed to watch the fight, and I ran forward, grabbing Andy's arm in an attempt to break his chokehold on Julian. The last thing we needed was for the cops to be called. But Andy pushed back me, dragging Julian with him. "You will _never _touch her again," he screamed at Julian, throwing him out of the front door and onto the yard. "You will never touch her!"

Julian tried to straighten, but Andy's fist slammed into his jaw, sending Julian sprawling backwards.

"Andy!" I screamed, running to intersect Andy's fist. I threw two arms around him, but he ripped away from me- lunging forward at Julian again. He was like a raging bull, and nothing would stop him in this attack mode. Nothing, that is, except for a varsity line back. Duke appeared out of nowhere, and pulled Andy off of Julian. Andy was spewing profanity like an erupting volcano, desperately clawing to get back to Julian. But Duke's grip was vice-tight and Andy was forced to relax. I jogged back the two boys to take a closer look at Julian, who was lying on the ground. He was breathing, and his nose was bleeding, but other than that, he seemed to be fine.

He met my eyes and tried to sit up. With a flash of anger, I kicked out, catching him in the gut. He squealed like a pig and I felt someone catch me before I could kick him again. "You're a pig!" I barked in Julian's face, spitting on him.

"That's enough," Charlie whispered in my ear. I turned and threw my arms around him, and he pulled me into a quick hug. "Sorry Millie and I didn't see anything."

"It's fine..." I whispered back. "It's not really a big deal; where's Andy?"

Charlie pointed towards the house and I sprinted back towards the door. However, before I entered, I glanced over my shoulder to see someone pull Julian into a car and disappear into the night. _Good riddance, _I thought and shivered again. But I needed to find Andy, and make sure he was okay. Andy was by the keg and I saw him pour himself a straight shot of some liquor. He held the cup to his lips for a moment, before he shook his head and set it back down. Andy, like me, was never a drinker. And for a brief moment, I was proud that he didn't resort to drinking tonight. Although, if anyone needed a drink, it would be him. His hands still shook from his anger.

I'd never seen him that mad, and couldn't figure out what had made him fly into such a temper. With a small hello, I stepped into his line of vision.

"Are you okay?" we asked each other at the same time, then chuckled.

"Shooken' up a bit," Andy confessed.

"Me too," I nodded. "That was crazy."

"It was..." he agreed, and then looked me over. Without saying another word, he reached forward and pulled me into a tight hug. "I'm sorry," he said. "Real sorry."

"What are you apologizing for, Andy?" I asked, and laughed. "You are my hero tonight. Thank you."

"Naw, don't mention it. 'N I'm sorry fer' earlier. I shouldn'ta snapped at ya'. It was just th'whole Naomi thing isa' lil' bit weird fer' me. 'N I was'a kinda' hopin' fer' a different reaction from ya'. I wanted ya' t'understand. Y'know? Everyone else was'a so mad... I just wanted ya' t'be happy for me."

"Andy," I lied. "I _am_." Everyone else knew? Why didn't they say anything to me? Why didn't they _warn _me? I tucked that question in the back of my mind for later.

"Ya' didn't seem like it," he frowned, calling my bluff.

"I was just caught off guard." That seemed to be happening a lot these days, I realized with a laugh.

"Well... whateva' happened, I shouldn'ta said that. Ya' know that I don't wish we'd never happened," he smiled and I ran and hand down his arm.

"Let's just start over," I begged. "All right? Forget everything that's happened up to this point. We've both said things that we didn't mean. We've both acted weird. But I think that we're now able to just... be _normal_. Okay?"

"I'd really like that, Peyton Maye," Andy laughed and we hugged again. When we pulled away, I felt something on my brow and reached up to feel what it was. I pulled my hand away and gasped; it was blood. I patted my head frantically, trying to find the source of the blood. It was then that I looked up at Andy, to see a small gash across his cheek. "Oh my god, Andy- you're bleeding!"

"Aw, it's nothin', I'm sure," Andy chuckled, but raised a hand to his cheek. I scanned the rest of him, and saw a series of other gashes and bumps across his arms. Apparently, Julian must've gotten a handful of him as well. None were too serious, except for a deep cut on his bicep. It was invisible when he had his arm down, as he had when I'd approached him. But when he'd gone to touch his cheek, I saw the stain of red on his shirt from his bleeding arm.

"Nothing?" I asked, pointing towards his arm.

He gasped in pain when he touched it and looked back at me sickly. "We've got to take care of that," I told him and he nodded. "How did it happen?"

"He had a knife," Andy whispered. "I saw it from a distance when I walked in. It was'a tucked away in his back pocket and when he kissed ya'- by th'way," Andy said, suddenly. "What was that all 'bout?"

"Don't even ask," I whispered, shaking my head.

He laughed, "I didn't really pay attention t'it, until I saw him grab ya' funny. I was'a walkin' away when I heard ya' yell 'n I turned t'see 'em grab ya'. I was'a goin' t'help ya' when I saw him start for that back pocket. I just kinda' flew int'a rage, then. He wasn't 'bout t'use that. I guess he got a hold o'it when we was'a fightin'."

"My god, tonight has been crazy," I breathed. _He had a knife? What were you _thinking_, Peyton? _I asked myself, kicking myself for not recognizing the kid earlier. _But it was all over now; everything was done. _And for that, I was thankful. I meant it when I said that I'd wanted to start over. Not only did I want to begin anew with Andy; I wanted to have a fresh start in general. From this point on, I was going to roll with the punches, fly by the seat of my pants, go where the wind willed me, and whatever other corny lines I could think of. I was no longer going to worry about anything- or anyone.

At that moment, Tommy's voice was heard from the top of the stairs. He was screaming like a banshee and Andy and I both jumped. "Oh no," Andy hissed as Tommy shoved his way down the steps. He was incredibly drunk; so much so that he couldn't make it down the steps without stumbling a couple times.

"Hey!" Tommy yelled, spotting us. Andy and I both peered around, hoping to not see the scowls on people's faces. However, with the drinks flowing freely, everyone except Andy and I were acting just like Tommy. People were on tabletops, yelling loudly, dancing crazily to the music. I hadn't noticed because I was focused on the fight that'd just occurred and now Andy's wounded arm. But it'd been like this all night. No one was paying any attention to Tommy's behavior, which was like a tornado in a box- absolutely crazy.

Tommy threw an arm around me and pulled me in close, "You're lookin' hot tonight, Peyton Maye. Don't ya' think so, Andy?" I met Andy's eyes and blushed.

"Tom, ya' are trashed..." Andy said, blushing as well.

"Oh _c'mon_, it's a _party_!" Tommy yelled the last word and raised his cup high in the air. The room erupted in cheers for a brief moment, but then the volume was dialed up and everyone started dancing. Tommy took a final swig from his cup, before he collapsed onto the couch. _Good, he's passed out_, I thought to myself. I looked at Andy and knew that he was thinking the same thing.

"I'm going to go see where the others are- to let them know that we're leaving," I mumbled, and Andy nodded, scanning the crowd for our companions. I spotted Arlene in the kitchen with Duke. She was sitting on the countertop, with Duke standing between her legs. They were deep in conversation and Arlene was staring deep into his eyes, a smile spread wide across her face. When she noticed me approaching, she slid off the counter and ran up to me.

"Lordy!" she cried, and I could smell alcohol on her breath. She looked at me through glazed eyes and I told her that I was leaving with Andy. "Duke will take me home..." she slurred, and I nodded.

"Be careful," I warned, thinking of Julian. "And where's Millie or Charlie?" I'd seen Charlie earlier, but he'd vanished after I'd asked him where Andy was. Arlene pointed up the stairs and I rolled my eyes, but headed off in the direction of her finger.

To my surprise, they were not locked in a bedroom- rather sitting on the upstairs couch. I perched myself on the edge of the couch and both turned towards me. "Andy and I are taking Tommy home; he's passed out and Andy's hurt."

"Is he okay?" Millie asked, then giggled.

"Are you?" I retorted with a small laugh.

Charlie looked his girlfriend over and shook his head, "She's never been able t'hold 'er liquor." He kissed her cheek, and I met his clear-eyed glance with a smile. The fight seemed to have sobered him up. "I'll get 'er 'n Arlene home safe, Peyton Maye. Ya' go on ahead."

Saying goodbye, I returned to find Andy pulling Tommy up off the couch. Tommy mumbled protests but didn't- and probably couldn't- put up any kind of fight. I wrapped one of Tommy's arms around my shoulder, and together, Andy and I managed to haul his limp body out the door and into the night air. I had no idea what time it was, and I had no idea how Andy had gotten here. With a look of regret, he announced that he'd walked the two miles here.

"Good thing I'm not in heels," I teased and tried to shoulder more of Tommy's weight. Andy, though he wouldn't outright say it, had to be in pain with that cut on his arm. It wasn't deep, but carrying someone home would put some pressure on it. I noticed him grimace a bit, but then a smile brightened his features.

"It's a nice night out, it'll be a nice walk," Andy whispered and I felt love swell in my heart. This boy was perfect… in every way. And as we set off down the dusty dirt road on a beautiful night, towing Tommy between us, I wished for the thousandth time that he was mine and that I was his… _forever_.


	23. Chapter 23

We set off down the road; I had Tommy's right arm pulled over my shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. Andy supported his other side, and together, we managed to drag a half-conscious Tommy out onto the black top. Andy's arm rested right above mine, and I could feel his skin brush against my own. The lightest touch sent chills up my spine and I shivered. Tommy mumbled weak protests, but lagged onward without pause. "You're neva' doin' this again," Andy laughed to Tommy.

"I don't think any of us will," I whispered and Andy smiled kindly at me. I returned the expression and pulled Tommy up straighter. I wondered if Julian would ever show his face around here again. Remembering his arms on me made me hope that he stayed _far _away.

But, before the whole Julian fiasco, I'd been having a good time. "All o' ya'll girls did look _real _good tonight, though," Andy replied, smiling. He scanned down my body and Tommy, barely awake, gave me a bleary-eyed smile.

Suddenly, my skirt seemed to fit twice as tight and heat rushed up my neck. "Thanks..." I blushed. "We try."

Andy went to say more, but suddenly, Tommy dry heaved and staggered out of our grips. Landing on all fours in the ditch, he began to wretch. I had to turn away, or I would be joining him. However, Andy sighed and stepped forward. I heard him pat Tommy on the back, and try to soothe him. It amazed me how much Andy could care for his friends; he honestly was one of the nicest people I'd ever met. Love swelled in my heart at that moment, and I glanced back for the briefest instant- catching Andy's eyes. He gave me a soft smile and in that instant, all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him.

Without thinking, I opened my mouth and the words "I love you" sat on the tip of my tongue. _Don't_. I commanded myself. _Not right now._ This was the wrong time, and the wrong place. For an instant, I wondered if I would ever come out and tell Andy how I felt. _Not as long as he's happy with Naomi, _I vowed inwardly. Partly because it would only stress him out, and partly because, the happier he was with Naomi, the less likely I'd have a shot.

But of course, the latter was not as important as the first.

Tommy eventually managed to stand up again and having sobered up just a bit, thanked me softly for helping him. I gave him a pat on the shoulder and wrapped my arms around him again to support him. Andy joined us and we set off, down the middle yellow line. Ten minutes later, Andy held open the screen door to our cabin. I pulled Tommy through and into his and Arlene's room, where we collapsed together on the bed. Andy followed with a bucket and I rolled out from beneath Tommy, who wriggled under the covers.

"He's out alright," Andy mumbled.

"I hope the others are okay, too," I replied. Millie was too drunk to think straight, even if Charlie was with her. And Arlene wasn't the best at holding her liquor either. Andy smiled at me, and I knew that he sensed my worry.

"I'm sure they are," he replied soothingly, peering out the window. "Hey," he began, turning back to me.

"Yeah?" I looked up at him.

"Let's go fer' a walk; it's such a nice night out..." Andy offered. My first instinct was to say no, that we should stay here and wait for the others—just in case something happened. But then I realized what he was offering me. A moonlit walk with Andy… what was better? I couldn't think of much.

"Okay," I mumbled, letting Andy lead me out the back door. I figured that he'd go back out onto the black top, but I should've known better. Instead, he led me out back and down a tiny path that cut through the thick wall of trees. We walked on for a few moments, Andy leading the way. I followed, peering around to avoid tripping when I suddenly understood why he'd wanted to come.

The night was beautiful.

The dusty dirt road was bathed in the white moonlight, which rained down through the overhanging tree limbs above us. Like paint, it seemed to drip across every surface. It caressed every leaf and branch, casting long spindly shadows across the path. The trees were now bone white, and it seemed as though I was in the middle of a black and white picture. The trail stretched out in front of us, curving gently, as far as our eyes could see. In the ditches and in the surrounding trees, fireflies flitted in and out of the forest foliage. They twinkled at random intervals like Christmas lights- seeming to guide us home. The whole forest was _alive _in the nighttime.

Crickets chirped soft lullabies, and in the distance, I could hear the deep croak of the bullfrogs. The stars above us were bright and there was not a cloud in the sky. I looked all around, trying to take in as much of this night as I could.

But I stopped mid-sweep when my eyes landed on Andy's face. Moonlight fell across his face, and his eyes- vivid in the daylight- burned brighter in the night. The blue was the color of ice, which stood in stark contrast to the white of the moonlight. His features were gentle as he stared out over the surrounding landscape.

Andy, who'd continued to walk ahead, stopped and looked back at me. I was knocked breathless for a moment by the sight of him, basked in light. He looked like a ghost or a vampire, but I was not afraid. Instead, I meandered closer to him. It was like a dream; this was all so perfect. A primal hunger coursed through me—one I'd felt at the party. For an instant, I saw myself step closer to Andy, hips swaying seductively. My eyes, closed in half slits, burned with lust as I wrapped my body around Andy and wrestled him to the ground.

I saw how he grabbed me roughly, pulling my mouth to his. We were like savages, starved of each other. Hands like claws, I'd rip across his back—tearing the fabric away from his body…

And then I blinked and the image evaporated. My mouth was dry and my breath had quickened, but I was still 5 feet from Andy.

He took a step forward without a word, and I caught a glimpse of those stunning eyes again. They held some emotion that I couldn't decipher. And as quickly as it came, it vanished and his eyes held nothing more than a look of comfort in them. "Now I see what you were talking about," I whispered. "It's so pretty out here."

He nodded in agreement, and together, we walked further into the woods. I slipped my arm though the crook of his elbow and rested against him. Andy looked down at me, but didn't ask questions. Instead, he smiled and patted my hand on his arm. I had no idea where we were going, but I didn't ask. This moment, like so many others I'd had with Andy, was perfect. And tonight reminded me of the night we'd gone to Backwood, where he'd kissed me. Thinking of kissing Andy sent a flash of heat up my body and I remembered my previous thought tangent. I wanted to reach out and stroke down his cheek or throw my arms around his neck to pull him into a hug.

With a tentative hand, I slid my fingers down to his wrist, following the thick veins of his arm. There, wound around his wrist, was the black cord with the two wooden beads. And I could feel, with the pads of my fingertips, the two initials carved into them. Naomi would always be a constant reminder of what I'd lost. She would be _his. _I would just have to live with that.

For a moment, I wanted to rip the bracelet off and steal Andy away into the night. I wanted to pull him into the woods, where we could both disappear forever. We could be savages together, always by each other's side. I wanted to grab his hand and run. But I didn't. Instead, I began to count my steps- looking down at my feet and never meeting Andy's face again. It was silly of me to keep letting myself desire Andy. All I would end up with was a heart full of hurt.

It was like Brandon all over again, I realized. I'd spent so much time wanting Brandon when he'd wanted another girl. And I'd watched as he'd fallen in love with someone who wasn't me. All of those emotions- the hurt, the disappointment, the regret- they all flooded into my heart again. Would I always live this vicious cycle? First with Brandon, and now with Andy. I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

"Ya' alright?" Andy asked suddenly, and I was pulled away from my thoughts. I looked up to meet Andy's eyes and realized that this cycle would stop here. There would be _no one _else, just Andy. Just Andy... _forever._ The thought sent a shot of pain through me, but then I smiled. I was having fun in Kentucky, with friends who were good to me. I was in a place that I loved with people who I loved. And even if Andy didn't love me back, I would be okay. Even if just for now. I could wallow in self-pity later; now, I was determined to enjoy this week and stop thinking so much about what I didn't have.

"Yeah," I replied with a smile. "I'm fine." He grinned and nodded, as if reassuring himself. We walked on in silence, just enjoying the night together and slowly, the dawn began to break through the trees. The entire forest was filled with a soft pink light. I looked up at the sky, which was just beginning to streak pink and purple. I pointed it out to Andy and he exhaled slowly, as if the sight soothed him. It was, I realized, the first dawn to my _starting over_. I inhaled, watching the pinks fade into purples and yellows.

I was at peace with my life- with every flaw and every imperfection- watching this sunrise. Beauty was all around me and all I had to do was to acknowledge it. _And starting today, _I whispered in my head, _I will. _

Together, Andy and I watched the sunrise through a small clearing in the trees. And when it was perched low on the horizon, we headed back to the house. We arrived five minutes later, to an empty house, except for Tommy, who was still passed out. I looked at the clock to see that it'd been about three hours since we'd left the party. "Where _are _they?" I wondered aloud.

"No clue," Andy replied, cracking open the fridge. "But I'm hungry. How 'bout we whip up some breakfast and wait fer' 'em t'come on home?"

I laughed and nodded, walking around to turn on the stove. Andy handed me the eggs and bacon, while he took over the pancake batter. Together we worked around each other, weaving in and out to use different pans and stove tops. The conversation was light and airy and soon, the entire kitchen was full of light and laughter. It took us about an hour to make an entire table full of food and we sat down next to each other, heaping eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes and fresh fruit onto our plates.

Before I could take my first mouthful, my cell phone rang. "Hopefully that's Millie," I told Andy, opening my phone. "Hello?" I said, without glancing at the Caller ID.

"Peyton?" the voice of my mother gushed.

"Momma?" I smiled, delighted to hear from her. "How are you?"

"Good baby, I'm really good!" She laughed. "You should see this show! It's going _so _great! We're going on an official tour! That's what I'm calling about, actually."

"I thought you were already on tour," I countered. Andy peered at me across the table and I mouthed _her show_ back. He nodded and I peeled the phone away from my ear and put it on speaker.

"We are baby, but now we're going nationwide! We're going to Boston, and Manhattan, then San Diego. I'm going to be really busy," the excitement in her voice was impossible to miss.

"That's so great," I told my mom and Andy smiled. He'd always considered her like a second mother, and was just as proud of her as I was. "For how long?"

My mother went quiet for a little piece and then sighed, "That's the thing, Peyton. The tour lasts seven months." _Seven months? But summer will be over in a little less than a month, _I thought to myself. _I have to spend six months in Raleigh by myself? _

"Momma..." I sighed. "Where am I going to stay?"

"Well baby, I already called your grandmama and we talked for a little bit about it. She thinks it's best if you stay with her." Stay with Grandmama? Stay with Andy? I hadn't really thought much about the end of summer- leaving hadn't crossed my mind until this point, actually. Originally, I thought that I'd come here for 2 months and then leave. But then everything had changed with Brandon and Andy and it'd all gotten confused and leaving hadn't crossed my mind.

Andy looked up at me and smiled. _What would he say about that? _"Or?" I asked and Andy frowned a bit, but I ignored him.

"Or..." Momma began. "You can stay in Raleigh by yourself. I'd check in on weekends, but- for the most part, you'd be alone. Of course, we'd have to talk about allowance and food and having people over..." I could tell that my mother wished I'd stay with my Grandmama. And honestly, I wanted to. But I suddenly didn't know if I could. As much as I wanted to, could I subject myself to seeing Andy happy with Naomi every day for the next six months? Could I do that?

"I don't know," I replied. "I really don't know." It was the only answer I had for both myself and her.

"Well I need to know soon, Peyton Hale," she replied curtly, obviously soured by the fact that I didn't make a decision immediately.

"I'll call, Mom. I promise." I vowed, not knowing exactly _how _soon.

"And Peyton," I heard my mom whisper. "Be careful out riding. The last thing you need to do is get hurt."

"Grandmama told you?" I laughed.

"Yes!" Momma cried, chuckling. "Because you never call!"

"Love you," I told her and we hung up. I looked up at Andy, who was still staring at the phone. "Interesting news..." I breathed, sighing. _What to do? What to do? _I asked myself. Andy nodded and I smiled at him, "What do you think I should do?"

He didn't reply. I waited for a bit and then repeated my question. Andy took a deep breath and met my eyes. "Honestly..." he began."I ain't got no idea. I know how much ya' love it here..."

"But?" I asked when he trailed off. I could almost finish his sentence for him. Although he may not want to acknowledge it, my being here caused a source of tension between him and Naomi. And all he wanted at this moment was for that relationship to run smoothly.

"I dunno'," Andy said and shoved food into his mouth. It was clear that this was the end of the conversation about my leaving. Instead, we made small talk and ate our breakfast- refusing to acknowledge the awkwardness that suddenly hung in the room. No one had come home still and both Andy and I were getting restless.

When I'd asked for the syrup, Andy handed it to me with a sigh. "I ain't gonna' lie," he mumbled. "Charlie and I'd wanted t'explore a trail that curves 'round Th'Devil's Peak."

"The Devil's Peak?" I asked. This place was known for one infamous cliff edge that few dared to travel on foot, let alone on horseback. The Devil's Peak was a towering cliff edge 500 feet above a rocky base below. The edge, which was only a jagged rock, was nearly impossible to get to. "When did you find that trail?"

"That's parta' th'reason that us boys came up here," Andy replied with a smile. "We saw it th'last time that we was'a here, but Tommy'd been too chicken t'go fer' it. But now that Charlie's here, Tommy said he'd ride up there with us."

"How close it the trail to it?" I asked.

Andy grinned, devilishly, "We step right ont' th'edge accordin' t'the pictures I've seen of th'trail. Some people posted 'em online."

"Sounds dangerous," I replied, but my more adventurous side wanted to see it.

"Naw'," he replied. "It can't be _that _bad. But... guess we'll never know. We ain't got anotha' day t'go 'n none o'the boys are here t'leave."

Thinking for a moment, I said after a mouthful of pancakes, "Well... I can go with you."

"Peyton Maye," Andy frowned. "I don't think ya'd like it... It's real _rough _ridin'. 'Sides... I dunno' if Ace is up fer' it."

I cocked an eyebrow and stood, snatching my plate away. "Andrew... it is _one _thing to doubt my capability to ride a trail. But you know better than to _ever _question my _horse's _abilities." Andy stared at me and then burst out laughing. With a nod, he invited me to go. With a cautious voice, he described it as a windy little strip of land, barely wide enough for a horse that curved up and around a mountain. If we followed the trail long enough, we should hit the Devil's Peak sometime that afternoon.

Later that morning, with still no word from any of our roommates, I jotted down a note on the side of a napkin that we were leaving. _Don't know what time we'll be back, _I scribbled. _Wish us luck!_ We would need it. And with that, we set off on horseback to brave The Devil's Peak.

Andy ran off ahead of me, but I looked up at the sky to see dark storm clouds building. Something told me not to go, but when I heard Andy call my name, I shook my head. _It's just you being silly, Peyton—_I told myself and dug my heels into Ace's side.

Without looking back at the clouds, I disappeared down the trail.


	24. Chapter 24

We set off down the trail at a trot with Andy leading. He told me as we rode that he really didn't have any idea where we were going, but knew the general direction. "You're going to get us in trouble," I laughed, but Andy shook his head. We rode on for a few miles and for the most part, it was easy terrain. The trail was wide enough that I could ride next to Andy, which I did for some bits. Ace had no trouble keeping up and was pushing the bit to go faster. I held him back, not knowing how much longer we had to go.

"So," Andy began- guiding the bay mare to the left. I trotted up along side of him and smiled. "About th'thing your mama was'a talkin' 'bout."

"Yeah?" I asked, looking ahead of us. The trail was going to narrow in a few hundred feet and I let Ace fall behind the bay mare again.

Andy peered over his shoulder for a bit, meeting my eyes before continuing. "What do ya' think you're gonna' do?"

"No clue," I answered; it was the truth. "You wouldn't tell me what you thought earlier."

"I know..." Andy murmured. "Because, honestly... I dunno' either." We'd already had this conversation, and I didn't feel like repeating it a third time.

"Well... how would you feel if I stayed?" _Happy? Sad? Mad? _

He thought for a minute, and we passed through a shallow creek. Both Ace and the bay mare splashed loudly through it, and I had to wipe the water off of my jeans. Andy still hadn't answered and I called his name. He looked up at me with a calm expression. "I'd like t'see ya' all th'time..." he whispered."I wouldn't mind if ya' stayed." His answer made my heart leap and I gave him a grand smile.

"It would be nice to be able to ride all the time. I haven't gotten to a lot before this summer." It would be nice to ride all the time _with _Andy. He nodded in agreement and teased me about how rusty I'd become. "Shut up," I laughed and steered Ace in front of the bay mare.

"Hey!" Andy called when I took off down the narrow trail. Ace was happy to shift into a headlong sprint and thundered down the trail. I turned to see Andy following, with a mock-fierceness in his eyes. It shocked me for a moment to see how powerful he looked on a horse. His muscles flexed as he gripped the reins and pulled tight left and right to guide his horse. The expression on his face was light, but even still, he looked so _strong. _It was like I was seeing an Indian warrior riding off into war.

For a moment, I could see us back in the early colonial times. I would've been a settler, with my long skirts and bonnet, working my days off in the fields. And I would've held my place in society- not as a woman of high class, but a woman who would work for her keep. Andy would've been my Indian warrior- my secret protector- who stole to my house in the night. He would appear in the moonlight with the face I'd seen last night, that face of sheer beauty and a pair of leather moccasins. I laughed at the image of Andy in my head- in a full headdress composed of feathers and beads. Life would've been so simple then and it would've been so easy for Andy and I to be together- roaming the west together.

We continued flying down the trail at top speed when suddenly Andy pulled his horse up short. "Hold on a sec," he called and I tugged Ace to a stop, turning him around to face the opposite direction.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothin', just..." Andy said, his voice dropping. "_Look._" I followed his nod into the woods, and I could see the small fawn standing on wobbly legs. Andy and I exchanged a quick grin- this small creature looked so fragile. Silently, we climbed down off our horses and stepped further into the woods. The small creature took a cautious step before tumbling down. "Where's its mom?" I whispered and Andy shrugged. The fawn was adorable and I could've stood all day looking at this tiny creature.

Watching the fawn stand again, Andy and I held our breath. Was it lame? Or was it just so young that it hadn't learned to walk? "C'mon lil'guy," Andy mumbled and I murmured a small prayer. The fawn took one step, very slowly, and then took another. The further it walked, the more confident it became until it was blazing a small circle in leaps and bounds.

Our laughter chimed through the forest and the little fawn jumped, skidding to a stop. Andy motioned for me to freeze and we became statues in the forest. Our eyes were locked with this creatures and it snorted, shaking its tiny head. I still hadn't caught sight of the mother, until I looked briefly to the left. There, standing hidden in the thicket, was the mother. I tapped Andy on the shoulder and pointed her out. She, too, was staring at Andy and I- and I could tell that she was debating running. Tentatively, she stepped out of her hiding spot and her baby came running. Together, they began to walk off in another direction and we watched as the creatures fell out of sight.

When we were sure that the doe and fawn had gone, Andy and I straightened and clambered back onto our horses. "How'd you see that?" I asked, digging my heels into Ace's side. He strolled forward, now worn out from his run. I laughed, trying to urge him on faster, but he refused to move faster than a snail's pace.

Andy matched my pace with a grin and replied, "I got lucky. I was'a just glancin' sideways and I saw somethin' movin'. At first, I thought it was a wolf; that's why I called out t'ya'."

"I'm happy it wasn't, and that thing was so cute." Andy nodded in agreement as we continued down the trail. It was now harder riding, and I had to watch carefully to avoid tripping over roots and stones. The trail was a thin strip of dirt- and we were surrounded by thick woods. We lost the trail several times and had to circle back and forth around- trying to relocate the strip of earth. Above us, the sky was darkening even more and I was worried that the rain wouldn't hold out. We'd been gone about an hour, but it felt like it'd been days. The entire length of the trail looked similar and wound around in steep circles and curves- I was worried that we might be going in a loop and not really getting anywhere when suddenly Andy called my name. He'd trotted out in front to warn me of stray limbs or trenches that would've caused a horse to fall.

I pushed Ace forward, and looked over Andy's shoulder. Thirty feet ahead of us, there was a clearing and it looked like the world ended where the trail cleared. 10 feet before the drop off, there was a wide semicircle of cleared trees. "This is it," Andy confirmed- climbing down off of the bay mare. He pulled her gently over to a tree and looped the reins through. I followed his example and tethered Ace next to the bay mare. Andy waited for me, watching as I checked my knot. Then with a smile, he waved me forward.

Together, we stepped out into the clearing and I felt as if I was at the edge of the earth. Looking straight ahead of me, I could see for miles and miles. The tops of trees formed a green carpet and the sky stretched, endlessly blue, on and on until it met the green tree tops at the horizon. I could see the divots in the green where the limbs dipped or where rivers carved their ways through the trees. "Andy..." I began, turning to face him. He met my eyes and I could see my wonder mirrored in them. "We're on top of the world," I exclaimed, throwing my arms out. A grand wind swept my hair back and I felt free as an eagle. _Could I fly? _I wondered, opening my arms wider and rolling up onto my tip toes.

"So this is'a Devil's Peak," Andy commented, staring at the ten foot expanse of dirt in front of us. We were only at the tip of the semicircle and the Peak was opposite us. "This don't look so scary afta' all."

Again, I glanced back at the breathtaking view and laughed. "This is _amazing_," I cried and we laughed together this time. Tentatively, I stepped closer to the cliff's edge. Andy followed me and we stood, side by side, staring out over what seemed like the edge of the world.

"Where are we?" I asked. "Is this even on the map?"

"I have no idea," he answered, smiling. I could tell that he didn't care. He was as mesmerized as I was by this sight. Quickly, I stole a look at his face and grinned. He was so handsome now- the wind gave his face a rosy glow and the sunlight shined bright on his features. With deliberate slowness, I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. This moment, like the one we'd had the previous night, was so perfect. _If there was ever a time to tell him... _I thought, fleetingly. The thought had wandered into my mind and I shook it away.

I wouldn't tell him today, or anytime in the near future. I'd already decided that. _Just stop thinking about it then, _that little voice in the back of my mind commanded me. Didn't that same little voice know how hard I was trying to _stop _thinking about it? About Andy? About the past? Didn't that little voice realize that I was trying to just _live _in the present moment and just be happy. _Calm down, _the voice replied and I felt like a maniac. I was having a conversation with myself- the two halves of myself- in my mind. Maybe I'd gone crazy... _No, _the voice replied. _Not yet. _And I smiled.

"C'mon- let's get _closer_," Andy suggested and I shook my head, fear gripping me like an iron fist. I was close enough- safely 5 feet away. There was no guard rail or any fence of sorts to protect us from falling off the edge. It was simply a rocky, earthen edge. The edge was jagged, and several rock clusters protruded and formed a teetering view point. I understood, now, that this was why it was called the Devil's Peak. For those who were brave enough to stand on these ledges would've been on the very _edge _of the world. They would stand nearly half a mile above the ground with nothing to keep them from falling. Thinking about it made my spine tingle.

There was also a fallen tree trunk that jutted out a few feet beyond the Peak's edge. It was a hefty, half-rotten, tree that'd probably fallen in a recent storm. And as safe as it may have appeared, as it was still half rooted in the ground, I didn't trust it. Andy, being more daring than I, jumped lithely, onto its wide trunk and stretched his arms wide- walking like a tightrope walker down the center. He was so close to the edge that I called out to him, demanding that he come back. "Naw Peyton Maye, ya' come t'me!" He was egging me on, I knew- but I stood resolute.

"Come back! You are not about to _fall _off the edge." I warned, giving him my bestMother Hen look. He frowned in return and beckoned me forward with a wave.

"I promise, Peyton Maye- I won't let ya' fall. Ya' gotta' see this! I can't describe this view." With a grand sweep of his arm, Andy turned. "Just look at it!"

I took a deep breath, telling myself to trust Andy. _He'll hold onto you; you will be fine. _I closed my eyes and steeled myself- not realizing that I had _this_ grand of a fear of heights. "You promise?" I asked, needing to hear the words come out of his mouth again. I swallowed against the knot in my throat, and then, suddenly- that bad feeling that had settled into my stomach at the beginning of our ride tripled in size. _Don't do this_, the voice in my head said. _You know it's a bad idea. _

But I looked up at Andy, who smiled gently and took a few steps back towards me. He extended a hand and whispered, "I _swear... _Now c'mon baby." _Baby. _He hadn't called me that in so long. It sounded so good to hear and pushing against the bad feeling in my stomach, I gripped his hand. He pulled me up onto the trunk with him and led me forward. We were less than a foot from the edge and I was trembling so hard that Andy chuckled.

"Don't you dare let me go!" I squealed when he moved closer to the ledge, throwing my arm around his shoulder. He wrapped a reassuring arm around my waist and shook his head. Scared out of my mind, I clung to him. "This is crazy!" I cried. But I couldn't deny what Andy had said- the view from this point was a million times better than the one from farther away. _Of course. _I was glad that I was sharing this with Andy, because I knew that none of our other friends would've appreciated this as much as Andy would. He'd always loved things like this- how beautiful the simple things in life were. It was just like the fawn we'd seen earlier; no male teenager that I could think of would've stopped at something like that. And while some could say that it was a flaw in Andy's personality to have a soft spot in his heart like that, I disagreed. It was just another thing that I loved about Andy. He looked majestic now, staring out over the vast landscape in front of us. I imagined him, yet again, in full Indian garb and smiled.

He met my eyes and I could see that our eyes held the same emotion. Silently, we seemed to say it _all_. And in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. We were locked in a gaze that was impossible to break away from. It was like a magnetic force that was pulling us closer together until our faces were inches apart. I stared deep into Andy's eyes- hoping that he'd press his lips against mine. "Andy," I breathed, leaning closer. Tears pricked my eyes and I shook my head. My breath vanished and I swallowed, letting my eyes slide closed. We were so close to each other- so _dangerously _close. We were like fire and gasoline- no good for each other in this instant. But I didn't care- I couldn't _make _myself care. I was prepared to give in and just let it go for a moment, just to be able to crush my lips against his. It would only cause me pain, I knew, but I wanted it _so _bad.

_Tell him, _the voice in my head commanded. _Do it _now_, you fool! You'll never have another moment like this_. I know he could feel my heart hammer in my chest, but I could also feel his. His breath was hot against my cheek and I peeked out from beneath my lids to see his eyes boring down into mine. I blinked, and opened my eyes. We were staring so intensely at each other that I started shaking again. My lips fell open just a centimeter and the words were right at the edge of tongue.

"Andy.." I repeated, and took a deep breath. "I have to-"

"Step forward," he whispered, not listening to me. My perfect moment was being spoiled and I frowned.

"No... _Wait,_" I tried to say, but Andy moved away from me. He was no off the edge of Devil's Peak- and the only thing between him and the ground was this tree trunk. "Andy, come back!" My voice cracked twice and tears of frustration pooled in my eyes. I'd been so close to confessing my love for him- and perhaps kissing him. The moment was so, _so _close. And now, it was fading away; I could feel it slipping out of my grasp.

"Just come 'ere," Andy said.

"I'm fine here," I retorted.

Andy shook his head. "I wish, that for just _once _in your life, ya'd do somethin' crazy. Ya' ova'think _everythin'_. Just... _c'mon_!"

"I do _not_ over think," I scoffed, though it was a lie. He was right- I did over think. However, it was fear that was holding me back. My curiosity was burning and I _did _want to step forward, but I just was too scared. "I was trying to tell you something, anyway."

"Tell me what?" Andy asked, and turned away from me. He raised his arms out, perpendicular to his torso, and threw his head back- suddenly letting out a wild cry. It was one of pure exhilaration and I envied him. Being so _free _like that seemed like an incredible high, and my suddenly flare of jealousy outweighed my fear. I tiptoed forward, creeping underneath Andy's arms to stand in front of him. I, too, threw my arms out and Andy placed both his hands on my hips. "Scream," he whispered in my ear and I obeyed his command.

It was the single most liberating thing I'd ever done and again, the urge to confess my feelings for Andy appeared. "I need to tell you something," I told him, and I felt him nod. "It's something that I've been holding in for a while now," I whispered and turned to face him. "Andy.. I-"

"_Wait,_" he hissed and looked around us, wildly.

"What is it?" I pressed, copying him. I could see nothing unusual, until I felt the trunk lurch a millimeter to the left. "What's that?" I asked, glancing up at Andy in a panic. There was sickening crack that answered my question. The log was splitting. I screamed when another sharp crack appeared in the trunk. I grabbed onto Andy and he squeezed me tightly back. He was just as scared as I was, but he took a deep breath and pulled my chin up.

"Peyton Maye, I want ya' t'listen t'me. We are gonna' be okay, alright?" I shook my head, but the rest of my body stayed frozen. It was terrifying to even breathe. "_No_!" Andy hissed. "We are gonna' be _fine_." I wondered if he was telling himself that, too- not just me.

"What do we do?" I begged and the log fell half an inch, wrenching another scream from my throat.

"Ya' need t'jump off th'log when I tell ya'- and I'll follow," Andy instructed and pulled me around him. "Th'log isn't gonna' hold both our weight and is gonna' break soon. Ya' ready?"

I was close to nodding, when a thought occurred to me. "Wait, Andy... If I jump, the log will break- you're heavier than I am. You go first."

"I will _not_!" Andy shouted, and the fear that he'd repressed suddenly sprinted across his face. He was, _possibly, _sacrificing himself. He knew that the trunk wasn't going to hold out, but yet, he was still letting me go first.

"Just... do it. It's the only way that we'll both get out of here. You _know _that, Andy. I'm lighter than you. If you get off and the log breaks, you can catch me. I can't catch you. Get off, and I'll jump to you. Okay?" I was deadly calm, and thinking clearly now. Andy saw that I was right and nodded. The trunk cracked again and I shouted, "_GO!" _

Andy jumped and before he could turn to catch me, the log gave way. I screamed and threw my arms out; Andy fell to the ground to catch me as I was falling- but I slipped through his grip. "_ANDY!" _I screamed, falling 10 feet before my hands caught a root that was protruding out of the ground. The root swung under my weight and I looked down to see the tree trunk continue to fall until it smashed against the ground and shattered.

"Peyton Maye?" Andy called. "Are ya' okay?"

"Help me!" I shouted back, my voice was small like a child's. Fear had me in a strangle-hold and I shook like a leaf. I was going to die.

"Look at me," Andy thundered and I obeyed. "I'm gonna' get ya' outta' here, ya' hear me?"

"I'm going to die," I said with a heavy heart.

"NO! No ya' are _not_!" Andy called back. "I can't reach ya', Peyton Maye... I have t'go get help."

"Don't leave me!" I screamed, looking up at him through teary eyes. "You can't, I'll die."

"Ya' will be alright; I just need ya' t'hold on t'what ya' are now. Ya' understand?" I nodded. Andy was crying, too. He was scared for me, too. What if I never saw him again? What if he left me and I fell? _Oh god... _I thought. _Oh god, no. _"I'm gonna' go get help now. Don't ya' dare look ova' that edge!" he said- his voice thick with tears.

"Before you go," I whispered. "I have to tell you something."

"Wait," Andy commanded, and I knew why. He knew what I was going to say; he also knew that this may be the end for me. "It can wait until I get back and save ya'."

"No it can't," I replied and looked up at him with tears in my eyes. "Andy... I have to tell you _now_."

"I'm not gonna' listen t'this-" Andy cried, desperately shaking his head.

"_I love you, Andy Cuttsinger. I love you more than anything else in this world. I always have, and I always will. I was a fool to leave you and to drive us apart, because now- you're all I want_. _And I know it may not be enough... but you have to know._" I was sobbing by the end of my confession and I turned to look away from him.

"Peyton Maye," Andy whispered, so tenderly that I wondered if he was going to mimic my words. But he shook his head and smiled and I knew that I'd done the right thing. He had to know, and now he did.

"Don't say anything... _please._ Just go." Andy looked at me, for perhaps the last time, before he disappeared from my view. "I love you," I whispered, though he couldn't hear me. "_I love you_."


	25. Chapter 25

I clung desperately to the edge, using every ounce of my strength. With a swift movement, I peered over my shoulder- ignoring what Andy had told me- and stared down into the vast expanse of rocky ledge beneath me. My heart hammered in terror as I tightened my grip onto the loose root. My feet kicked at the cliff edge, trying to find a foothold, but only knocked against cold, hard stone. I was on disaster's doorstep, and I began to hyperventilate when sweat began to bead on my palms. The bark of the root dug into my hands and every shift in the wind blew bits of dirt and grit into my face. I swallowed against the bile that had risen in my throat and stole another look over my shoulder.

_Where was Andy? _I wondered and suddenly regretted letting him to leave. Why had I thought that getting Tommy or Charlie or someone would be a good idea? It may have been if I wasn't clinging to the edge of a cliff. What were they going to do that Andy couldn't have done alone? _Shut up_, I told myself. _Just shut up._

Again, I swept the cliff edge where I hung from, trying in vain to see something that could get me back onto a horizontal surface. There was a small divot about four feet over that I could put my foot in and perhaps clamber over the edge with. Thinking quickly, I gave the root a small shimmy- seeing how much wiggle room I had. If I could build up enough of a swing I could launch myself over. However, when I moved the root, it gave a sickening crack and I fell a half of an inch. Letting loose a blood curdling scream, I froze, clambering up higher on the root.

_Oh god, _I thought in my head. _Please don't let me die here. _

The thought of death sent a tremble ricocheting through my body. What if I died here? What if I fell to my death? I squeezed my eyes shut, driving the thought out of my mind. I would _not _die. I would make it back and I would go on to live a healthy, happy life. I _would_.

"I will," I whispered aloud, nodding my head fervently. "I will!" I repeated louder, looking up at the sky. The clouds were an ominous black and would let loose any minute. The trees were already starting to sway in a fierce wind that had picked up and the air had suddenly turned off cool.

I closed my eyes, and tried to ignore the pain in my arms. They would lock up soon and then give out and I suddenly regretted skipping all the arm workouts I could've done. I couldn't even do a pull up and yet, here I was, clinging to the edge of a cliff. It must've been the adrenaline, but who knew how long that would last. In my mind, I tried to count the number of minutes it'd been since Andy had left. He would ride as hard and as fast as he could back, but even then, the trail was tricky to maneuver. It would take him at least a good half hour to get there and back, not including the time it took him to find whoever he could. I had no idea if the rest of the gang had made it back from Duke's, or if they were in any shape to help.

All I could do was hope and I seemed to suddenly be running low on hope of any sort.

Amidst my panic, there was a strange calm settling around me. My body was in survival mode, but my mind was beginning to accept that these next few moments may be my last. I could see clearly how I would meet my end and somewhere deep down; I knew that I could only accept it. There was no fighting if the root broke or if my hands slipped; there was nothing I could do other than hold on for dear life. It was a scary and very intense thought- thinking of death.

It seemed like such a silly thing to think about on a daily basis, because I was young and strong and had no fear of my life's end. But now, in this predicament, it was a very prominent thought. I took a deep breath and peered over my shoulder again. My body reacted in fear, and the sickening feeling crept up my spine. But my mind remained calm and I could see details that I'd never noticed all around me.

There was a strange, eerie beauty about this cliff. There was a bird's nest about 10 feet below me with a pair of hatchlings inside. They were squawking delicately- their tiny beaks wide open. I smiled a bit at seeing such young life. Far below, a tiny stream wound its way through the cliff's bottom. It was like a thin snake, dark and black, but it reminded me of Grandmama's.

The thought of Grandmama caused me to choke up. I may never see her again. I may never see her weathered face, how her smile stretched across and made her look twenty years younger. I may never feel her arms wrap, gently, around me. There was so much I wanted to know about her, so much that she still had to teach me. She'd lived a life full of love and happiness, and I may never know her entire story. Grandmama was such a remarkable woman and had given birth to the brightest, and most exuberant woman I knew- my mother.

My momma. I let out a sob when her face appeared in my mind. How could I never see her again? Would I ever be able to stand in ovation at one of her shows? She'd made me the woman I was out of the girl I'd been. There was so much I'd learned from her and Grandmama both, and without them as guiding lights, I would've been lost. I was so thankful, suddenly, for everything they'd given me. And I vowed that if I made it out of here, I would tell them every day how much they meant to me. Where would I be- _who _would I be- if not for the two most incredible women in my life?

There were so many other people, I realized then, who had touched my life and left fingerprints. Millie and Arlene and Sandra- my three very best friends. They'd grown up with me, listened to me sob over pointless drama, been my advisors on boys and clothes and life in general. We'd made plans for the future, of how we would each be bridesmaids at each other's weddings and be godmothers to our children. We would all live on the same street and have Friday dinners with our families, all gathered around. Now, I could see that it may never happen- not including me, at least. I hoped that if something did happen to me, they would still go on with our plans. And I hoped that they would live happy lives, but always keeping their Peyton Maye in the back of their minds. There were also the boys, Tommy and Charlie... my two goofs whom I loved so much. They were my big brothers, and I'd always been able to count on them. I wanted the world for them both, because they deserved nothing less.

So many other people kept springing up into my mind- Hanna and Tom, Ace, my dad. Would my dad get the news, where ever he may be- that his daughter had died? Did he have a new family? Would he leave them, if just for a day, to rejoin my mother to mourn the loss of their child? Part of me hoped that he wouldn't- so that my momma wouldn't have to see him. Maybe if he shed a tear, just a single tear for me, and reopened the corner of his heart where I'd once been- I would rest peacefully. I'd always had plans to find him one day, and demand why he'd left me. I wanted to see if my hazy memory of him was correct- I wanted to know if he was happy, lonely, married, bitter, rich, famous. I just wanted to know if he was even alive, or if not, how he'd died and if he'd died with my momma and me in his mind.

And then... the face of a familiar stranger arose in my mind. _Brandon_. Where was he now? Would he get the news of my death? Would he be upset?

After all we'd gone through together, after all the exchange of love we'd had, would he look back on me with a smile? Deep down, in my heart, love swelled for the boy who'd broken my heart. I was flooded with memories of Brandon and wished that things had not ended so badly. There was another part of me that still wished I was with my perfect Brandon. This part was only awakened by the fear of death, as every other emotion in my heart was. My deepest feelings were emerging, suddenly. Rather than repress them back, I allowed them free run throughout my soul. I could feel love for Brandon- for _my _Brandon, the one that I'd created in my mind- flow through me. His beautiful image appeared- and I could feel my fingers run through his honey-streaked brown hair. His emerald eyes shined down at me and that perfect mouth spread open into a smile.

I could see the future we would've had stretch out in front of me. And though it changed nothing, I let myself wander down its path. Brandon and I would've been _the _high school couple. Everyone would've envied us for how in love we were. We would've gone on to college together, been at the top of our class and gotten married shortly there after. Our life would've been a fairy tale- and I would've been unspeakably happy. And then, as quickly as the path appeared, it faded out again. And I sealed Brandon off in my heart, where I could visit him whenever I needed to relive my past. He would always be a part of me, just as everyone else had been. And I would cherish everything I'd taken from him, and all that he'd given me. Brandon taught me so much about love and myself. He'd showed me things about life that no one else could've, and for that, I would always be grateful of the 16 months I'd shared with him.

Tears rolled out of my eyes as I pictured him and the time we'd had together. It had been so perfect, like a dream. He'd been a dream, my perfect boy. And I told myself that one day, if possible, I would finally find a closure with him. I was at peace with my end with Brandon, because that had led me to the greatest realization of my life: my true love for Andy.

As soon as Andy's name dawned on the horizon of my mind, I was gone. Sobs echoed down into the rocky ridge below as I thought of my beautiful Andy. So many memories swept through my mind in a millisecond that I was knocked breathless with their force. I remembered my and Andy's first kiss, how nervous we'd been. I remembered him as a child- how we'd run free on the open hills. I remembered our adventures, each of which had brought us closer and closer together, until we tumbled off the edge into love so deep that it'd been untouchable.

I thought of leaving him, and saw how stupid I'd been. I realized that leaving Andy, however, had taught me how to appreciate him for who he truly was. And I could see clearly now, how I was in love with two different sides of Andy. A great part of me loved the old Andy, the boy who I'd left two years ago. That boy was wild, outspoken, fearless and as passionate as any great hero. He rode free, wearing every emotion he had on his sleeve. Together, we'd seen many great things, all of which I would never forget.

And then there was the Andy who I'd returned to this summer. That Andy was more genuine, more reserved, but harbored the same savage passion. I loved this Andy as much, if not more, than the old Andy. My heart nearly exploded with the love that filled it. I conjured Andy's face in my mind- going over what I'd already memorized. His blond hair was so soft, like the wing of a dove, and it framed his strong face, with the square jaw. His tan skin was stretched tight over his features, but smoother than silk. His eyes were as blue as the sky, and a thousand times deeper than any ocean. They let me into his soul and were full of emotion. In fact, every emotion he'd ever had was clear in his eyes. They'd seen happiness and joy, but also sadness and pain. They rested above his straight nose and then down to his full mouth. His lips pulled back in a smile to reveal perfect teeth. I wanted to kiss it, and closing my eyes, I replayed every kiss we'd ever shared. The one I ran, over and over, was the one we'd had at Backwood.

Backwood, I understood, had been the peak of our relationship. Together, alone in that little place, we'd let every emotion loose. In those few moments, we were _free_. And I didn't care if Andy'd ended it, or if it'd only lasted a few seconds. That kiss had explained it all, even if I'd failed to see it then. Because in that moment, I fell so deep in love with Andy that I'd forgotten the outside world. I'd let go of everything else, and had only remained tethered to this earth by my love for Andy.

This love was so much more complex than anything I'd ever felt. I loved every part of Andy, every inch of his heart, mind and soul. All of his flaws, all of his graces- everything, to me, made Andy so remarkable. He was full of wisdom, even at the age of 18. His thoughts were deep and complex and he never missed anything. I loved this about him. I loved how giving he was, as well. And how kind and graceful. I loved that he was strong and compassionate. But more than anything, I loved his passion. The fire in his heart, with the intensity of a hundred suns, burned so bright that nothing would ever put it out. He was passionate about everything he did, which made everything he did so much more important. He cared so much for so many things, and it amazed me to see the intensity settle deep within his eyes. I admired this passion he had, and hoped that it would fade.

I prayed that Andy would have a happy future, with or without me. I prayed that he found peace with Naomi, just as I had with him. And I was glad that I'd told him how I truly felt before he left. Because if anything happened to me, I wanted him to know that he'd been loved. I wanted him to know that I hadn't let him go, and that I never would. Even if that didn't change anything- how he felt for Naomi or for me- I wanted him to know. If Andy ended up happy, I would be at peace- even if it wasn't with me.

However, deep down, in the depths of my soul, I prayed that Andy would end up with me. I prayed that Andy would choose me instead of Naomi, so that I could make him happy and that we could be together for the rest of our days. I didn't care if we were young, and I didn't care what troubles would face us, I wanted- more than anything else on this world- to be with Andy. The thought of losing him or of losing the future I might have had with him ripped through me like a knife.

I couldn't stand it anymore, being without him, and I gnashed my teeth together as I sobbed. The pain was like an electric shock and I shook with every fresh wave of it. I saw how ignorant I'd been to let him go; I saw how much I needed him and how I could not live without him. And as much as I wanted to say that I would get him back, I didn't know if I could. He was with Naomi now, and he was happy. He was _so _happy and no amount of begging or fighting on my part could touch that. I didn't want to touch that, either, because it would mean hurting Andy. This time, I had to repress the feelings I had deep down, even if my end was near. I had to let him be happy; it was the only way I could be happy. So with broken sobs, I shoved the fighting spirit back and instead, turned my thoughts down a different alley.

Other questions popped into my mind, deep life questions that I'd never really contemplated. _Was I truly happy? What would happen to me after Death's icy grip took me captive? Was there a Heaven and Hell? Had I lived a full life? _

I couldn't come up with any of the answers, but settled into a deeper thought- I didn't care. I had made the choices I'd made and I could do nothing but accept them, just as I had to accept what would happen to me. I had done all that I could and could not end my life regretting the choices I'd made. I had to be at peace with the hand fate had dealt me, rather than spend my time wishing that things had turned out different. _If I survive, _I thought. _I will live with that attitude every day, never again regretting things. Life is far too short. _

In that moment, everything came full circle. I was at peace. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes- which were still full of tears. And I peered up at the sky with a small smile on my lips. A rain drop fell suddenly on my uplifted face and I shook it off, feeling five more fall behind it. The storm was beginning- and I was pulled out of my calm like a bird shot out of the sky.

Again, I examined the root, noticing how strained it was. It was apparent that it would not hold out much longer, which sent terror screaming through me. The calm, tranquility I'd been holding on to just as tight as the root evaded me for a moment and I suddenly so frightened that I screamed, letting loose a cry of sheer terror. Then, closing my eyes, I prayed. I prayed that I would make it out of here safely, and I prayed that I could have the strength to hold on for just a few more minutes- even if a few wasn't enough.

Before I said my amens, I prayed that I would get to see Andy's face again- if just for a few seconds as I was falling. Something strange happened then, and I regained the composure I'd had before. A new feeling was creeping through me, the scariest of them yet. _What if I just... _let _go? _The thought was nowhere near suicidal- it was just a stray thought. I could end all this panic; I was at peace. It could all be over, the wait, the pain in my shaking arms- I could let go. I would fall, and see everything flash before me, until I hit the rock below. Briefly, I wondered if it would hurt but then, I realized that I would only feel the pain for a moment until Death closed in on me.

Should I do it? I thought, though a wave of hysteria. The adrenaline must've started to wear off because the pain in my arms increased sharply. I was so tired, and so weary... and all I had to do was let go. It was as if the fight suddenly faded out of me, from where I'd shoved it away, and I could not locate it again. I was sleepy, almost dozing off, and I felt my grip loosen just a tad.

_Goodbye, _I whispered. "Goodbye," saying it aloud made things that much more real. It was ending, here and now. I could feel it, as if I was at the top of a rollercoaster. The drop was ahead, and I could sense it coming- it was so close. My grip loosened another fraction of an inch and I closed my eyes, hearing lighting crack above me.

"_Peyton Maye!_" I heard Andy scream. And I looked up to see Andy above me, his face having appeared over the cliff edge. My prayers had been answered and I was so happy suddenly. I could go easy now. I lifted my face to the rain, feeling it pelt down against me. Then, pushing my feet against the rock, I leaned back.

"_NO!" _Andy's voice screamed again, "Peyton Maye, _hold on!_" Through the haze in my mind, I wondered why this Andy- who was obviously just an image my mind had conjured- was so insistent that I hang on. The thought floated around for a minute before reality hit me like a brick. This wasn't a fake Andy, this was the real one. He was back! Andy had come back for me! I was saved!

"_Andy!" _I screamed in reply, throwing myself against the cliff edge and clawing back up the root. "Andy, help me!"

"I'm here baby, hold on- we're gonna' get ya' outta' here safe," Andy vowed. "_Trust me._" I looked up, my fighting spirit suddenly returned, into the Andy's face. Through the rain and fear, I could see Andy's eyes boring down into mine.

"_I trust you._"


	26. Chapter 26

"Tommy," Andy called over his shoulder, never moving an inch. I looked to see Tommy's head appear over the cliff, where his eyes met mine. He didn't say anything, but the look of determination on his face reassured me. "We're gonna' need that rope," Andy continued- motioning over his shoulder.

Tommy disappeared, and was replaced by Charlie, who- much to my relief- was holding a rope. "Oh thank you," I breathed, letting my head fall against the cliff. A sense of relief crept through me, followed by one of security. I felt safe with these boys, even though I was still hanging over the edge of cliff.

"Now Peyton Maye," Andy called down to me. I looked up into his eyes, blinking against the pounding rain. Lightening cracked in the distance and it appeared to split the dark sky for a moment, a wicked scene. "Peyton Maye!" Andy demanded again, intent on having my full attention. "Now, ya' gotta' understand that you're a good ten, maybe twelve feet down.'N th'rope we had was'a 'bout seven feet long." _Oh no,_ I thought- my sense of relief fading away.

"I don't know if I can reach it!" I called back; all three boys could hear the fear in my voice.

"She's right," Charlie mumbled softly. Andy shot him a dark look.

"Just _try _first, and if that don't work, then we'll figure somethin' else out," Andy replied to _all _of us. I nodded, trying to seem confident in Andy's plan. Charlie extended an end of the rope towards me, trying to lower it as much as possible. He had to have a firm grip on the end of it in order to pull me back up, which shortened the rope about half a foot. However, Charlie had a long arm and, if I stretched my arm up as far as possible, my finger tips could graze the frayed end of it. It still wasn't long enough. With a sigh, Charlie hoisted the rope back up.

"Andy, it's not working!" I complained, suddenly frantic. "Get me out of here!" I screamed as I looked around me. In this torrential downpour, the muddy clay cliff had started to soften. The root I clung to was unlodging itself, and soon, it would fall- which meant that I, too, would go tumbling down.

"We're tryin'!" Charlie shouted. I looked up to see that only he was visible now. Tommy and Andy had vanished from the cliff edge. Charlie noticed their absence as well and looked back over his shoulder. "Hey!" He called to them. I had no idea what was going on, but from the nervous look that settled over Charlie's features, I didn't like it. Andy appeared back over the cliff edge and took a deep breath.

"Is it tight?" Andy asked, and I squinted to see what he was motioning towards.

"Tight as can be," I heard Tommy reply.

"Here we go," Andy sighed and looked down at me, squatting down.

"Andy, what are you doing?" I asked. He looked down into my eyes with a firm resilience. It was then I saw the rope tied around his middle. "No!" I gasped. Andy was going to climb down to where I was, with only a flimsy _rope _tied around him.

"Hold on, baby- I'm comin'," he said and rolled over onto his belly. From there, he shimmied back until he gently tumbled off the edge. For a moment, he dangled, suspended, in mid-air. I could see the fear coursing through his body as he gripped the rope tightly. "Lemme' down boys!" He yelled back to Charlie and Tommy. On his command, Andy slid down another foot. "Gimme' some more!" Andy shouted again and he dropped two more feet.

I watched, speechless, until I was eye-level with his boot. "Peyton Maye," Andy whispered. "Look at me, baby." I was suddenly aware that I was clinging as hard as possible to the root. My whole body was wrapped around it. I peeled my face away from the rough bark to meet Andy's eyes. He held the rope tightly in his right hand and leaned over to the left, extending his left hand towards me. "C'mon baby, take my hand."

"I can't, Andy," I whimpered. "I'll fall."

"No ya' won't; I got ya'," Andy reassured me. But I shook my head, keeping myself glue to the root. "Peyton Maye," he repeated. "_Damnit_! Stop bein' silly now. This isn't th'Peyton Maye I know. Be brave for me, baby. Be brave."

_Don't be a coward, _I whispered to myself. With a firm nod, I met Andy's eyes again and, ever so slowly, gripped his extended hand with my right one. He gave me a tug and I let go entirely of the root. Still gripping his hand, I used my other free hand to scramble up his body. He wrapped his arm around me and we dangled together against the cliff, finally safe. I breathed a sigh of relief in his ear, and whispered, "Thank you."

He kissed my forehead and hugged me tight. "Pull us up boys!" He commanded. "Get us _outta' _here." With that, both Andy and I were hoisted back up until we clawed our way up and over the cliff edge. I scrambled five feet away from the edge and then collapsed, crying tears of joy, to be on horizontal ground. I couldn't control myself. My nerves were literally fried, so much so, that I began to laugh. I laughed uncontrollably, still sobbing simultaneously.

I continued to laugh as Andy, Tommy and Charlie fell next to me. "What is she'a laughin' at?" Tommy whispered, but Andy shushed him.

At the sound of Andy's voice, I shot up. "Andy!" I cried, so euphoric that I couldn't contain myself. I tackled him to the ground, clinging so tightly to him that we could've still been hanging over the edge. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I repeated it over and over, in between frantic kisses. I kissed him on his cheek, his forehead, his nose, his eyes- everywhere except his lips.

"_Hey now..._" Tommy chided, faking a wounded tone. "I helped, too."

I laughed and rolled off of Andy to throw my arms around both Charlie and Tommy. "You did! Thank you both, so much."

"It ain't nothin' ya' got t'go gettin' excited 'bout," Charlie replied, blushing. "All I know is that you're _safe_- I need t'ride back 'n tell th'girls. Can ya'll get 'er home safely?" Tommy and Andy both nodded. Charlie pulled me away from him, and set me off at arm's length. Then, with a gentle touch, he brushed a piece of sopping hair out of my face. "I'm so glad that you're okay," he mumbled.

I watched him ride off and then turned back to the two remaining boys. We sat there, completely silent, in the middle of a thunderstorm. Every piece of clothing I wore was soaked through- as were Tommy and Andy's clothes. The silence continued, as each of us stared out over the landscape. In that instant, I could feel Life's elasticity. I could feel how it flexed in my body and flowed through my veins. I'd never appreciated the air I inhaled more than in that moment. Every breath that pulsated through my body seemed precious. Just moments ago, I'd been on Death's doorstep and now, here I was- safe. I was _safe._ I wanted to scream, I was so happy. My life would not end today; I was alive. A smile spread across my face and I exhaled the breath I'd been holding.

Andy looked over, meeting my gaze. He saw the relief in my features and nodded, "I'm glad you're safe."

"Me too," Tommy added, and moved to stand. Andy followed suit. When I went to get up, I found that I couldn't. It was like my legs and arms suddenly turned to lead, but I couldn't move. Black spots spread across my vision and I suddenly felt very dizzy. I swayed, suddenly, to the left and my breath left me in a giant _whoosh_. "What's wrong?" Tommy asked, squatting over me. He sounded so far away though, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. "Andy!" Tommy yelled, and Andy appeared, as well, above me.

He grabbed my face in his hands as my eyelids drooped. "She's fainting," he said and I knew he was right. I could feel my mind receding back into a cove where it could recover. I'd been so stressed out lately, and with _this _near death experience, my mind was on edge. It needed to recuperate, as did my weary limbs. Andy lifted me up off the ground and I sank down into his arms. With one last smile, I tumbled backwards into the blackness.

The next thing I recall was the smell of lilacs, which were my favorite flowers. They seemed to be everywhere around me, almost like I was in a field full of them. The delicate, purple flowers floated around me- though I could see nothing. Their light, airy aroma filled my nostrils and I attempted to smile. However, I was still paralyzed. The only thing I could feel or see was darkness, and it weighed heavy on my limbs. I'd been here once before, I remembered- to an abyss similar to this. It was right after I'd met Naomi, when I'd fainted then. I'd stirred to find myself in the middle of night, though that darkness had terrified me.

This black was calming, and I forced myself to relax. I knew that I would come too soon, and I strained my ears to hear voices. But I heard nothing but silence. Literally, the only thing I could separate from the darkness was that smell of lilacs. Then, ever so gently, reality swept over me like a wave and took with it, the calm midnight. I opened my eyes and looked around my room at Grandmama's. There, on the night stand next to me, was a vase of lilacs. I smiled as I touched on of the tiny, lavender petals. There was no card, but I guessed that Grandmama had left them there.

I had no recollection of how I'd ended up in this room, or how long it'd been since that awful moment on the cliff. The memory flashed before my eyes like a bolt of lightning and I cringed, feeling my biceps ache unconsciously. The ache echoed through my whole body and I flexed different muscles, feeling how sore they were. It was relaxing to stretch and, without thought, I extended my limbs away from my body. Peering to my right, I couldn't tell what time of day it was because the curtains were drawn shut. With careful movements, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rose. Since I had no idea how long I'd been horizontal, I didn't want all the blood to rush from my head, for fear that I would faint again.

I pushed back the edge of a curtain to see nothing but black. The sky outside was moonless, and clouds covered the stars. Turning round, I noticed the time- _3:29 AM_. No wonder there was no one here; I doubted that even Grandmama would be awake as I shrugged on a sweatshirt and slipped into a pair of house shoes. Carefully, I peeled my door open and padded out into the hall. I flinched when the steps squeaked under my step but continued my descent when there was noise from Grandmama's room. The kitchen light was on and it cast an eerie pool of light into the living room. There was figure on the couch and I squinted to see who it was, my muscles coiling automatically in fear.

Stepping closer, I could tell that it was the shape of a boy by the bulky shape and then finally, sighed, when I saw that it was Andy. My smile softened to see that he looked so angelic now, his face so peaceful. He'd fallen asleep sitting upright, and his head hung back onto the top of the couch. I wondered if his neck was stiff. When his mouth lulled open, I couldn't help but let out a gentle peal of laughter. Instantly, I regretted it when Andy stirred and twisted up straighter to blink sleepily. "What time is it?" He asked, stretching his arms high above his head.

I crept over to join him on the couch and fell back with a sigh. "Some time near four," I replied, letting my eyes slide closed.

"My god," he sighed. "Ya' couldn't wait _two _more hours before ya' had t'wake up?" Andy's tone was teasing and he lightly punched me in the arm. "You've always been so stubborn."

"_Sorry_," I laughed. "How long have I been out for anyway?"

Andy thought for a moment, counting the hours silently. "I'd say 'bout two days. By the time I'd carried ya' back, they'd already packed th'truck 'n we was'a back here by th'night time. Then all day the next day 'n int' th'night. So yeah, somewhere 'round there."

"My god," I mimicked Andy. And then something he said clicked in my mind. "Wait... you _carried _me back?"

"Well yeah," Andy replied. "Ridin' a horse woulda' woken ya' up, 'n I didn't wanna' do that."

"The trail though was..." I tried to think of how many miles we must've covered that day. And we'd been on horseback, running, for a good 30 minutes.

"Awh," Andy laughed. "It was'a only 'bout 8 miles. Tommy said we must've taken a loop twice somewhere in there." _Eight miles? _Andy had walked _eight _miles carrying me... just so I wouldn't be woken up? I closed my eyes again, and shook my head. He was _too _perfect- _so _perfect that it was hard for me to handle.

Andy noticed. "What ya' thinkin' 'bout?" I was about to answer, but my mind was going a mile a minute. It was impossible to narrow it down to just one thing. I was replaying the whole event over and over in my mind: seeing the fawn, looking up to see the cloudy sky, letting myself scream at the cliff's edge, that awful fall, watching Andy's worried face through the rain, and finally... hearing the words, "I love you" pour out of my mouth.

"So many things," I said finally, which, I knew, was not a satisfactory answer. "But Andy... why are you still here? You should've gone home; you have to be as exhausted as I am."

"I was," he answered. "That's why I was'a sleepin', 'fore ya' came 'n waked me up 'course." We laughed together softly.

"Why not in your own bed?" I pressed.

"I wanted t'see ya' wake up, just t'make sure ya' was'a okay. But sleepin' on a stool was way too uncomfortable, 'n your Grandmama said I could just stay down here. But I was so far away from ya' that I didn't know if I could hear ya' if ya' woke up in th'night. That's why I was'a sittin' up, 'cause I was tryna' stay awake."

"Oh Andy," I whispered, wondering how I'd gotten so lucky to know someone like him- to love someone like him. There were not many Andy Cuttsinger's left in this cold, hard world. There was no one I knew that had such a golden, warm heart as Andy... not a _soul_. We sat together for a few moments, just gazing out into the dark living room. I couldn't think of anything to say, and didn't really see the need to. Just being close to Andy made my whole experience not seem so bad.

"Your grandmama called everyone she could think of," Andy commented randomly, breaking the silence.

"Even my mom?" I asked.

"What do ya' think?" Andy mused, smiling over at me. I sighed. _Great_, just one more thing to stress my mom out. I knew that I'd hear from her in the morning and I'd have to waste thirty minutes explaining that I was okay. "Peyton Maye," he continued after another long minute had passed.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanna' say that I'm _so _sorry fer' thinkin' that goin' up t'that cliff was'a good idea. I'm so, so sorry 'bout that." His voice broke, and I could've sworn that he was choking up.

"No, Andy..." I whispered, twisting to face him. I put a reassuring hand on his arm, one that he squeezed. "You do _not _need to apologize to me. You saved me. Without you, I would be nothing right now." That was so true in so many different ways. Andy had not only saved me from falling to my doom, but also from falling apart after Brandon had left my life a mess. Andy had saved my heart, my soul and my physical self. I was indebted to him for the rest of my life, and I would've been perfectly happy to spend my whole life making it up to him.

"Yeah... but I was'a th'whole reason that ya' was'a in th'situation in th'first place." He continued to sound miserable, and I could see how tormented his gaze was. This must've been something that he was really beating himself up over.

"It was just a weird, twisted coincidence. You had nothing to do with me falling," I spoke in low tones, but my words were fierce. I could've been with _anyone_, been _anywhere._ It was not Andy's fault.

"I just... as I was'a racin' back t'get th'boys- all I could think 'bout was'a ya' fallin'. I think," Andy had to stop because he was too choked up to speak. My own eyes welled with tears watching him like this. "I think that if ya'd have... fallen," he stumbled over the word. "I think I woulda' jumped afta' ya'. I don't think I coulda' lived with myself."

"_No!_" I shook my head, and the tears came rolling down my cheeks. "No, Andrew Cuttsinger, you are not to say that. You cannot say that, do you hear me?" Andy turned his face away from me, and I could see a tear on his cheek. "Andy, look at me," I commanded. His face moved back a fraction of an inch. "You are too good to do something crazy like that. You have to keep yourself safe and... and _alive_ because the world needs you, Andy. This place is dark and... _seriously _messed up. But then there's people like _you_- people with such _kind _hearts and _pure _souls... And these people, _these people _give the rest of us here reason to live. People like _you_ are the reason that people like _me_ continue to exist."

"Peyton Maye..." Andy sighed. "That ain't true."

"It is, though," I argued. "I would've _let _go if you hadn't come back. I was so close, Andy-" he shook his head, unable to hear me speak of my death. "But then I saw you, and I heard you tell me to trust you... and Andy, _that _saved my life. _You _saved me." I met Andy's eyes and we were locked in a gaze, so powerful, that my head spun. "You saved me," I repeated, even more quiet. "You saved me."

Andy pulled me into a hug and we rocked back and forth, both crying. We clung to each other for dear life, saying nothing. When I moved to pull away, Andy only pulled me back. "No... I'm not ready t'let ya' go just yet. I need t'_know _that you're _okay_." Suddenly, I was aware that Andy was not speaking of the cliff incident anymore. He was talking about my heart. He knew that I loved him. He knew that I needed him now, to love me. And he knew that he couldn't. He was in love with Naomi, but he needed me to be okay with that. He needed me to be okay by myself, so that he could love her like she deserved. It was all so clear.

A tear rolled down my cheek, and I mustered up the courage to nod. "Yeah, Andy... I'll be fine." _One day, _I vowed. But, in the back of my mind, I didn't know _when, _or _if_,that one day would come.


	27. Chapter 27

Eventually, Andy let me go so that we could curl up on the couch. He pulled the quilt of the arm and draped it over us. Even though I could see the sun beginning to peak over the distant horizon, I snuggled tightly into Andy's arms. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closely into his chest. There, warm and comfortable, I drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, we both awoke to the smell of bacon floating from the kitchen. The living room was now full of light and the day outside was clear and sunny. "Grandmama?" I yawned, sitting up out of Andy's arms. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and smiled at me. "Good morning... _officially_," I whispered with a grin. He smirked.

"In 'ere, dawlin'," Grandmama called and I jumped up, running into the kitchen. She was standing near the stove and I raced to her, throwing my arms around her waist. She yelped, but laughed as she wrapped her arms around me.

"I'm so glad to see you!" I sobbed, not quite knowing why I was crying. I suddenly couldn't comprehend the thought of never seeing this woman again. It wasn't plausible in my mind anymore.

Grandmama pulled my face away from her and wiped my tears away with her withered hands. I looked up to see that she, too, was crying. "If ya' eva' do somethin' so _stupid _like that again, I will... I dunno' what I'll do," she warned.

"I swear I won't," I vowed.

"Good, now gimme' anotha' hug. Child, when I heard what ya' got yourself int'_again... _Lord, I'm gonna' have t'tie ya' up t' th'bed t'keep ya' safe!" We embraced, tightly for a moment, before separating- both of us sniffling. Andy wandered into the kitchen, eyeing the stove for the sizzling bacon. Grandmama gave him a smile and waved him on in with the spatula. Though I doubt I was supposed to, I caught the look Grandmama gave the two of us, no doubt having seen how we were lying together on the couch. I snorted delicately, and both looked at me. With a shake of my head, I turned towards the fridge, searching for the milk.

"I need t'catch up on all th'chores I've missed," Andy noted. "Since I've been gone..." Grandmama nodded, stirring the eggs that she was scrambling.

"I can help you," I replied, joining Andy at the table. Grandmama set bacon and eggs down between us and we both heaped food onto our plates. I was ravenous, after not eating for almost two full days. "If..." I said between bites. "That is, you _want _my help."

Andy rolled his eyes, "Ya' know I do dawlin'." I smiled at him, before shoving bacon into my mouth. We finished our meal, making simple conversation and laughing over what we'd missed during the week. Grandmama filled us in on all the latest gossip around town.

After breakfast, I called my mom. She picked up on the first ring, and at the first words out of her mouth, I started balling. We cried together for a moment before her yelling at me began. She screamed at me for being so careless on a cliff edge, but then cried with me, happily, because I was safe.

She promised that she'd come visit me as soon as the show wrapped Reno. I wished her luck and hung up the phone, looking over at Andy who was standing by the door. "Ya' ready now?" he asked, motioning for me to come on.

"You can go on ahead... I'll meet you down there," I wanted a few moments alone with Grandmama after not having seen her for what seemed like years. Andy shrugged and pushed out the door. "Gosh..." I sighed, collapsing on the couch.

Grandmama sat next to me with her second cup of coffee in her hands. She patted me on the leg and gave me a tired smile. "How ya' feelin'?"

"Okay, I guess. I'm still sore. But mentally, I'm getting there." I knew that I'd carry around the scars of what happened for a few weeks, at least. It was a traumatic experience and my mind still needed to overcome it.

"Dawlin'..." Grandmama huffed. "When they called 'n told me what'd happened-" She bit her lip. "Why would ya' think that goin' t' th'_edge _of a cliff would be okay?" She frowned deeply.

"I don't know," I replied. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." I didn't tell her that one of the major reasons I'd gone was because of Andy.

However, Grandmama saw a glint in my eye and whispered, "Andy carried in ya' in 'ere, hollerin' for me at th'top of his lungs when ya'll got back. Everyone else left afta' they saw ya' put t'bed- but naw, Andy stayed. He said he wasn't goin' nowhere 'til-"

"Until I woke up," I mumbled. "Yeah, he told me last night." Or... this morning- whenever.

"I saw ya'll curled up togetha' on th'couch this'a mornin'. Does that mean that ya'll are..." she let off, but gave me a look that finished her sentence.

"No Grandmama, we're not together." I sighed and she saw hurt flicker across my face.

"Ya' gotta' tell 'em, child. Th'boy needs t'know how ya' feel," she whispered.

"He does," I whimpered. "I told him everything." I went on to tell Grandmama every event of the week we'd had there in those woods. I told her about the party, about Julian- which she made a face at, how Andy had saved me, how we'd decided to go to Devil's Peak, about the fawn, and then about the fall. I told her, with tears in my eye for the fourth time, about how scared I'd been and about all my realizations. I poured out my soul to Grandmama who continually gasped at random intervals. When I told her how I told Andy that I loved him, she shook her head.

"Lord," she sighed, fanning her face with her hands. "You're 50 years younga' than me 'n you've had more excitement in your life than I eva' will!" We laughed together for a moment before I heard the screen door creak back open.

Andy appeared in the doorway and rolled his eyes, "Are ya' comin'?"

Grandmama frowned at him, but I just laughed. "Yeah- give me a second." I pushed off the couch and lugged back up the stairs to get changed. When I returned back downstairs, Andy was at the door. I pushed him, playfully, as I walked past him and he ran out after me, catching me around the waist. I squealed as he lifted me up off the ground and spun me around. "Let me go!" I demanded, laughing. "Before you fall, stupid!" Andy tickled my sides and I punched him in the arm. When he moved to grab me again, I held up my hands for a truce. It felt good to have things somewhat back to normal. The day was hot, and I'd already begun to sweat in my cotton shorts and tank top. I pulled the pony tail holder off my wrist and wound my hair up into a bun. Loose strands popped out immediately and I huffed, trying to blow them out of my face. Andy laughed at my frustrated expression and stepped forward to brush a piece of hair behind my ear. "Thanks," I mumbled, blushing. I felt like we were flirting and frowned at how _good _it felt. And what was worse... it felt so _natural, _so _right._

We continued on towards the barn and slowly, Andy pushed open the barn door. "God, I've missed this place," I whispered. Sunlight filtered in through the panels above our head and illuminated the dust swirling in the air. Inside the barn, it was cool and shady and so, _so _peaceful. Ace was in the back stall and I sprinted back to him, throwing open the latch so fast that I startled him. "It's okay, boy," I cried and squeezed my arms around his broad neck.

Andy strolled down to where I was and laughed, watching me nearly choke my horse to death with affection. "He's missed ya', too," Andy pointed out, putting a hand on the stall door. Then, after thinking for a moment, "How 'bout a ride?"

"But we have stuff to do, don't we?" I asked.

Andy shook his head nonchalantly, "It's nothin' that I can't do later. Besides... ain't ya' learned t'live in th'moment?" His question brought with it, a pang of sorrow and fear, as I let myself be overcome with the memory. But his words did the trick and I nodded, reaching around the door to grab Ace's bridle. My arms were sore and I flinched when I lifted the bridle above my head, trying to get it over Ace's ears. Andy noticed and came up behind me, gently tugging it out of my hands. "I got it," he whispered and smiled at me.

He fastened the last strap and grabbed a handful of Ace's mane, throwing himself agilely over his back. Ace jumped a bit, not used to having Andy on his back and I gave Andy a questioning look. "We can ride togetha'; it ain't gonna' kill ya'," Andy frowned. I didn't know where the bay mare was that Andy normally rode, but I shrugged. He held out a hand to me and helped me jump onto Ace's back.

"Be careful with my horse," I warned, as I wound my arms around Andy's middle. He laughed and dug his heels into Ace's sides. Ace reared up a bit, but took off out of the barn at a breakneck pace. "Andy!" I shouted, looking ahead of us. "The gate!" My eyes widened in terror for a moment; we were going to plow straight into the gate if Andy didn't pull Ace up.

"Hold on!" Andy hissed and bent forward, urging Ace on. Ace didn't slow for a moment and leapt, like an African gazelle, over the fence in one smooth movement. We landed on the other side and I tried to loosen my hands from Andy's shirt, where they'd frozen in claws. "Told ya'," Andy gloated.

I reached up and smacked him hard on the back of the head. He ducked forward with a yelp. "I've had enough _near death experiences _for one week, don't ya' think?"

"I knew Ace could do it, Peyton Maye. He's done it a thousand times before." Andy was calm, as he rubbed the back of his head.

"How do you _know _that?" I demanded.

"We've taken a few joy rides without ya'," Andy chuckled. "No big deal." I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Aw, don't be like that," Andy begged. "C'mon... I'm sorry I scared ya'. I promise no more nonsense." Again, I shook my head but this time, I fastened my arms around Andy's middle for a second time. "No nonsense," he said again and prodded Ace onward. We set off at a light trot back to the creek and made it there in no time.

Andy slid off of Ace's back and offered me a hand to help me down. I sat there for a moment, ignoring his out stretched hand. It was so hot out today... I didn't really want to just sit at the creek and let all the bugs eat us up. "Let's go swimming," I suggested suddenly. "Do you remember the place?"

I saw Andy's eyes light up and he nodded vigorously. Without another word, he swung himself up onto Ace's back, this time _behind _me, and wrapped _his _arms around me. "Take that trail down there," he instructed- pointing to a nearly invisible trail to our right. I followed his finger and we took off flying. Andy continued to whisper instructions in my ear and I shivered feeling him that close. Not thinking, I leaned back into him- pressing my body against his. He was so buff, so strong. And I felt so safe with him, I always had.

The closer we got to the pond, the more my body seemed to tingle with anticipation. It was hot out today, and the water would feel good on my parched skin. We rounded another corner and I stared out over the small body of crystal clear water. It was even better than I remembered it. Andy jumped off behind me and was began kicking out of his boots. I sat there, watching him for a moment as he slipped out of his shirt before looking away awkwardly when he met my eyes. "Are ya' comin'?" He asked me with a smile and I nodded, slipping off of Ace's back. Ace stamped impatiently, wanting to waddle into the water, but I tethered him to an old dogwood tree. I slid out of my work boots and shimmied out of my shorts and jogged down to the water, pulling my shirt up over my head.

I was close to the edge when I felt two hands clasp around my biceps. Andy had grabbed me from behind and I attempted to wiggle out of his grasp. "What are you _doing_?" I demanded, but couldn't control my laughing. Andy turned me around, and I looked up into his smiling face. For an instant, I thought he was going to kiss me, but then he grinned wickedly and released me for a moment. Before I could run, he wrapped both arms around my waist and threw me over his shoulder. I protested loudly, but he ignored me and ran both of us into the cool water.

I screamed like a child when he hauled me over his shoulder and my back slammed onto the water's surface. It swelled around my skin like silk and I sank back, relaxing instantly. "This is what I needed," I laughed, and waded out on my back into the murky water. Andy laughed, watching me, and then dove forward beneath the water's surface. Predicting his next move, I kicked out when he wrapped a hand around my ankle. He popped up above water and I splashed him in the face- giggling like a child.

"You're goin' down, dawlin'," Andy growled and I shivered with the sudden lust I felt. He sprang forward and we both sank under the water. I felt his arms encircle me and I was locked in his grasp as we both came up for air, laughing. We struggled for a bit, but I couldn't break free of his arms. I was pressed up against his body, his beautiful body. _Why not make the best of this situation? _I thought to myself and smiled. Rather than continue to fight him, I wiggled around and locked my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his neck so that I was holding onto him. He slid his hands down my sides until they rested on my hips and we floated together, face to face. "Wanna' play a game?" Andy suggested.

"Sure... what game?" I whispered, feeling myself blush.

"Truth o' dare," Andy replied, his voice husky. "I'll go first..."

"Fine," I gulped- trying to not appear nervous. I knew I really didn't have a reason to be, but as teenagers, most of these _games _we played led to some unholy things. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Andy murmured.

I scrambled to find some deep dark secret that I wanted to pull out of Andy, only to say, lamely, "What's something you've never told anyone before?"

Andy didn't even hesitate with his answer, which made me think that he'd been holding onto it for a long time. He inhaled slowly and then on the exhale, he breathed, "I _did _come afta' ya'."

"What?" I froze, and the word escaped through my teeth.

"Ya' heard me," Andy chided, smiling just a bit.

"You... came? _When?_ No you didn't- I would've known..." I stammered.

Andy cut me off. "Not right away, 'course. I was too _mad _that ya' actually left. It was'a in December when I came. One mornin' I looked outside my window, 'n I knew I just _had _t'see ya'. I put on a coat, grabbed my keys 'n drove all day. I drove 'n drove- 16 hours, until I ended up in your neighborhood. It was'a nothin' like I imagined it, I'll tell ya' that." I closed my eyes, listening as he described my house in perfect detail. He'd even spotted the ridiculous garden gnome that my mother had in our little garden. "I waited all day for ya' t'get home from school o' where eva' ya' were. I saw a car come around th' corner, 'n ya' were in th'passanger seat. I saw ya' smile and my heart got so big that I thought it was'a gonna' bust outta' my chest. Th'car pulled int'your driveway 'n ya' got out- wearing those silly ol' jeans ya' always wore out home. Th'one pair that had th'hole on th'thigh." I knew exactly what pair he was talking about. They'd been my favorite jeans up until they got so worn out that the butt fell out of them. I couldn't believe that he remembered all of these little details.

He took a deep breath and continued, "Ya' were so _perfect _in that moment, Peyton Maye. Th'truth is... I've neva' seen ya' like that. Ya' were laughin' at somethin', and your hair was'a flyin' free. Th'way ya' looked... it was _weird. _I guess I finally saw ya' wantin' someone else- that's why." I tilted my head, confused. "Ya' were bundled up in someone's jacket, and I saw ya' pause and take a deep breath of it- like ya' liked being in it- 'n that's when I saw him."

My heart sank: _Brandon. _He saw me with Brandon.

"I saw him come up 'n put his arm around ya'. Ya' were cold 'n so it made sense, but still. Even though it'd been a few months, I still considered ya' mine. I wanted t'kill him for touchin' ya'. He didn't deserve t'do that, when I couldn't. But I saw how ya' leaned int'him, 'n smiled that smile o' yours. Ya' were happy, 'n I realized that killin' him would only hurt ya'. Somethin' snapped in me, Peyton Maye." Andy's eyes bore down into mine. "I drove home doin' 80 th'whole way. I got back 'n went crazy. I got mad, cried, broke stuff. I threw a baseball bat at Tommy, nearly hit 'em, too. 'N not because I saw ya' with someone else- but because that someone wasn't _me._ I wanted t'be th'one t'make ya' happy. But I knew I couldn't."

"Andy..." I whispered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did," he laughed.

My eyes bore down into his. This boy came back for me. Andy came after me. The one flaw I'd thought existed turned out to not be true. Andy came back, but he let me go because he saw that I was happy. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to kiss Andy. I loved him, so much in that moment. And this moment was tangible in the air- I could feel it surround us like a cloud. Andy and I stared at each other, both feeling the same thing. We would've kissed then, just like we almost did on the couch. But I remembered what I'd been trying so hard to not notice: I had to let him be happy with Naomi.

So instead of kissing him, I pulled out of his arms and extended my hands, pretending to peer down at them. "My god... I'm a prune. Can we go back?"

Andy felt the moment snap in half, just like I did. But he didn't say anything, or maybe he didn't really notice it like I did. He just nodded and slid out of the water after me. I felt flushed and sticky coming out of the lake, like I needed a good shower and then a long nap. I was still reeling from almost dying and now this- finding out that the love of my life had come after me, and yet... I'd never known. It was all too crazy.

Ace took us home at a smooth canter and Andy helped me get Ace back in his stall when we returned. We were walking up to the house when I noticed a car parked in Grandmama's drive. It was one that I'd never seen before, and I pointed it out to Andy. He shrugged, not recognizing it either. Suddenly, the screen door bust open and Grandmama came storming out. She met us halfway, out of breath and flustered. "Peyton Maye- ya' need t'come inside now. There's someone here for ya'."

I looked at Andy, who stared at my Grandmama. "Who?" I demanded. "Am I in some kinda' trouble?"

"No... But you're 'bout t'be really surprised." Grandmama whispered. And then, as if on cue- the back door opened. I nearly fainted when I saw who stepped out.

"Speak of th'Devil..." Andy hissed, and I gripped his arm for support.

"Peyton?" A clear, deep voice- belonging to the person walking towards me- called out. I shook my head, not knowing what to say or how to react. I was shocked- _stunned_.

"Why is _he _here?" I heard Andy murmur to my Grandmama, but I wasn't listening for her response. Instead, I started walking towards the advancing stranger.

I couldn't control my legs, so I couldn't help but start running. _I ran all the way into Brandon's arms. _


	28. Chapter 28

I gripped him tightly, trying to remember what actually touching him felt like. "Well don't just _stand _there," Grandmama sighed. "Ya'll go on back t'the house. I need t'go check on some things in th'garden." I smiled at her, knowing that she was giving Brandon and me privacy- even if it was apparent that she hated this boy. I looked around, trying to locate Andy. He'd vanished, all of a sudden but I spotted him, storming into the barn. He was mad. _Really _mad. _Oh lord, _I thought to myself. _What hurricane have you just started, Peyton? _

But then I remembered _who _was standing next to me. _Brandon was here!_ It was unimaginable. "Come on," I said- towing him back into the house. He walked ahead of me into the kitchen, but I stayed frozen in the doorway.

"It's really you," I said- unable to believe that _Brandon _was standing in front of me. He looked exactly the same as I'd left him, so handsome that it hurt. His brown hair, with those infamous honey streaks, still gleamed in the sunlight. His flawless face was tanner, but still so smooth. He stood high above me and I had to tilt my head back to look up into his face. And when I did, I stared into the eyes that I'd gone to bed for months dreaming about. The green eyes with iron flecks sprinkled across like rain drops. They were full of emotion today: happiness, fatigue, a little embarrassment, and sorrow. He looked tired, and I had a feeling that it was not just from the long plane ride.

How stressful would it be to hear that the girl, whose heart you'd broken- _twice_- almost died? I could picture Brandon on the plane, fidgeting the way he always did when he was nervous about something. Brandon wasn't a nail biter or a pacer like most; he just messed with little things like the edge of a napkin or his shirt tail. He would tap a pen in a rapid rhythm or scratch at a nonexistent blemish on his arm. I used to think it was cute when he did it around me. I liked having that _power _over him, however awful that made me feel. I liked that I could still intimidate this _god _of a man. Even now, that familiar sense of pride crept into my bloodstream.

Brandon brushed a lock of hair behind his ear and then fixed his shirt collar. It was odd to see someone dressed in anything other than a ratty tee and worn out jeans on Grandmama's farm. This boy seemed out of place in his pressed khakis and button down Ralph Lauren shirt. The pale green in the shirt made the green in his eyes pop. They were like clovers.

"Yeah," he replied, not seeming to find any other words to say.

"I didn't think..." I began. I didn't think a lot of things, actually. _I didn't think you'd come; I didn't think you still cared; I didn't think that my mom would give you directions to this place. _

"Yeah?" Brandon said again, a question now.

"I can't believe you're here..." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I was looking rough today, and not at all prepared to see Brandon... _here_... in my Grandmama's house. This place was my escape hatch. I'd run here to get away from all the drama I'd left back in Raleigh. I'd run here to be _Peyton Maye_, and over the past few weeks, I'd tried to let _Peyton _go. Brandon being here now ruined that. He was like a stain on my heart that I couldn't get out. And I'd tried, in vain, to cover it up with a rug- with _this _summer and this place- but now that he was here, it was like the rug was ripped away. But at the same time, my heart did a familiar leap of joy when I looked him over.

If I was completely honest with myself, I was _thrilled _that he'd come here.

But I still stood awkwardly in the door, holding the screen wide open. Brandon was rigid in the kitchen, a good twenty feet away from me, and neither of us made a move to close the distance. _Should we hug again? Shake hands? Kiss on the cheek? _I didn't know the rule of thumb for cheating ex-boyfriend come to... _come to what?_ Why was Brandon here? Had he come to make sure I wasn't dead? And I asked him that, quietly.

"_Why _am I here?" he asked, looking a little offended. "Why wouldn't I come is the better question, don't you think?" I shook my head, confused. Brandon, whose feathers I could see I'd ruffled, whispered quietly, "Peyton- you almost _died_. And whether you believe it or not, I still care about you. I came to make sure you were okay. And more than that, I wanted to know how you're doing. It's been a long time since I'd heard from you..."

Suddenly, I was angry, and I couldn't help the words that I spat at him. "You say that like it's my fault that we haven't talked!"

Brandon was taken aback at my sudden venom; I was, too. What he said next, in a low voice, didn't surprise me. "Peyton... there's one other reason that I came today. And that's to apologize to you for everything I did. It's not the kind of apology that you can write or say over the phone. No, I had to see you- to _explain_."

"What if I don't want an explanation?" I challenged.

"Well, I know you're lying- I can see it in your eyes. But if you really don't want it, I'll leave now. I've seen you're not broken or damaged from your cliff stint." He had me all figured out, didn't he? He was right; I did want to know what he would say. There was more, though. I found myself suddenly missing his company. We'd been friends before we'd been _together_, and I wanted to maybe, _one day_, get back to that. No romance, just companionship. _You crazy fool, _I told myself.

"No... You're right," I admitted. "Stay." The word fell out of my mouth seamlessly, and I still couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that he was _here_. Brandon gave me a smile, but I frowned.

He sighed, "What?" There was sour tint to his question, and I could see pain sprint across his face. For a moment, I pitied him. That was until I remembered _why _he was regretful- for _cheating _on me... _twice._

Rather than console him, I shook my head. "It's just too weird for me," I whispered. "Sorry, I don't mean to act weird."

"Me, too," Brandon mumbled. "I'm sorry... More than you can know."

Just then, I heard footsteps behind me. And before I turned, I knew who it was from his sharp intake of breath. Brandon looked past me, into Andy's face. I could picture what Brandon saw- hostility. Andy viewed Brandon as an enemy; Brandon was an intruder. "Hello," Brandon sputtered.

Andy ignored him, "Are ya' okay?" I didn't turn around, just nodded. Suddenly, Andy seemed childish to me. He couldn't even be civil to Brandon. Yeah, the guy screwed up... _bad_, but Andy could at least _try _to be a little less frigid. There was a part of me that wanted to act just as Andy was. I wanted to hate Brandon for what he'd done to me. He'd ripped my heart out, stepped on it, and then handed it back as if nothing was wrong. He'd written me a letter, so beautifully worded that I thought I'd die. Then, he negated _every single word _with that one stupid phone call. I wanted to smack Brandon; I wanted to punish him for what he'd done to me. But then, there was a larger part of me that knew it was irrational.

I couldn't hate Brandon. After all this, I still cared about him. That's what happened when you loved someone. It didn't matter what they did, you loved them anyway. You always would. And maybe not the type of love where you wanted to rekindle the flame, but the kind of love that you wanted them to be happy. I didn't want Brandon back; I loved _Andy_. I just wanted Brandon to be happy. And from how he looked at me now, he was. I wondered if he'd started dating the girl he'd cheated on me with. If so, I hoped that they were good together. He deserved that, at least.

Another reason I was starting to get sick of Andy's rudeness was the fact that Andy had nothing to worry about. It wasn't like I was going to _crawl _back to Brandon. Andy should know- actually, he _did _know- how I felt for him. I loved Andy, not Brandon. I wanted Andy, not Brandon. Andy should be confident in that fact. But he just refused to admit it to himself. I wanted to turn around and show both Andy and Brandon how I felt by planting a kiss on Andy's lips. However, I restrained myself and peered over my shoulder at Andy, who still hadn't left. "I'm fine..." I told him.

"Oh, well... in that case, I just came t'tell ya' I'm leavin'." I narrowed my eyes at Andy. How dare he act like this. He looked at me now, like I'd betrayed him. He wanted me to be mad, and kick Brandon out. And he was mad now, because he knew I wasn't going to. "I'd rather not be _here _for... _this_." He looked very pointedly at Brandon. Brandon sighed.

"Whatever," I spat. "If that's how you want to be."

Andy scoffed. His jaw flew open and I saw his eyes blaze with anger. To him, I was a traitor. I was messing with the enemy, the bad guy. "Just... _remembeh' _what happened t'ya'." With that, Andy gave Brandon a once over and turned on his heel to leave. The screen door flew open and shut back behind him, just as quickly. I jumped slightly at the loud _thwack _of it and shook my head. _You did it now, Peyton_.

"I'm sorry about that," I said, turning back to Brandon. "I don't know what's gotten into him."

"I do..." Brandon replied. "If the situation was reversed, I would've acted just as cold. I hurt you.. And for that, he has every right to feel angry; you're the girl he loves, after all. And when someone hurts the thing you love, it hurts you- ten times worse. If he'd been me, I would've killed him right here."

"He doesn't love me," I whispered automatically.

"What?" he asked, sounding mystified. "Of course he does.. Why would he act like that if he didn't?" It was a question I'd been asking myself for days. I didn't know; I wish I did.

"Andy.." I began, picking at a loose thread on my shirt. "Andy doesn't love me. He has a girlfriend." The words sounded so repetitive coming out of my mouth. "And his girlfriend is perfect..."

Brandon looked me over, and sighed. He saw it on my face; he saw the love written _all _over me. "You're just not having the best of luck, are you? Poor Peyton.. I'm so sorry. You don't deserve that."

"Deserve what?" I asked him.

"First my blatant foolishness. I was a complete _idiot_ to think of letting you slip through my fingers-"

I cut Brandon off. "C'mon.. I don't want to talk here, let's go for a ride." Brandon made a face and I suddenly remembered that he didn't know how to ride a horse. The thought didn't process in my brain at first and I knew that it would take me a little while to get used to him not knowing his way around the farm. "Well.." I corrected myself. "Let's go for a walk, then." At that, he smiled and I led him out the back door and towards the gate Andy and I had just come through. "Go on," I insisted.

Brandon sighed, "I don't know what I was thinking, Peyton. When I met you, two years ago, I knew _instantly _that you were special. Because you are... There's something about you, something magnetic. At first, you were so cute with that country accent. I couldn't get enough of you, and I'd thought seriously about asking you out. But I wanted more from you; I wanted you to stay around. You knew me, or you figured me out really quickly. Girls I dated came and went, and I didn't want that to be you. You weren't just another girl to me; I could talk to you. I could be myself around you. And I thought that you felt the same way about me. You were always so casual with me. Until one day, you show up in a miniskirt and a tank top. That ridiculously hot tank top."

I closed my eyes. _Didn't you know that I did it for you? _I thought. _Didn't you know that I wanted you to notice me? Why didn't you ask me out..? I would've loved you like no other; I wouldn't let you make me another girl. I would've been the only girl in your life- forever. _

"And..." Brandon continued. "I saw and heard all these guys start to notice you. I was jealous suddenly; I wanted to protect you. I wanted you to stay like you were before, under the radar. It was selfish, I know. But I thought that if I could get you to think that I wanted you back, that you'd be normal again. You'd be mine, just mine."

"You led me on so I wouldn't leave?" It was such a cruel thing to do, he was right. I was blown away. I knew exactly what he was talking about. When we'd been friends, he'd seemed so into me. I was convinced that he liked me, but just didn't want to say anything. All that time, I'd thought he'd wanted me. And now, I could see that he just wanted a friend. He just didn't know how to ask for one. "Why would you do that?"

"I don't know, Peyton. I was confused. I was torn. On one hand, I wanted to be the wild child I was. I wanted to hook up with girls, date my way through our class and not let anyone tie me down. But then... I also wanted to drop every other girl and just be with you. I just wanted to sit on your couch, and watch old movies like we used to. We just hung out. It was great. And I wanted that forever. I didn't know how to balance it."

"And you never thought that just dating me would work?" I asked, looking up at him.

"No, I would've broken your heart; I knew I would. And, Peyton... I was right." His words were heavy. "I wasn't good for you. You needed steady and solid; I couldn't give that to you. Until one day, I saw you start to slip away from me. You pulled back and you were quiet more often. I knew, then, that I'd done it. I'd stolen your heart, and the only way to keep you around was to give you mine. And so, we started dating. Those few months were so perfect to me. They were everything I thought I wanted. But more and more, I began to miss who I'd been before we'd gotten together. I missed being _free_. I wanted that crazy guy I was _back_. I wanted to let loose, to not care. Now, I see that it was because I was scared. I knew that if I let you in too far, you could really do some damage in my life."

"But I wouldn't have hurt you..." I said. "I loved you."

"I know," Brandon replied. "I'm an idiot, remember? I know that now, but then... I started to freak out. I didn't want to settle down so quickly, I wanted to be free. So I started flirting again; I started cutting loose. And then _she _came along and she challenged me. She was a mystery, one that I was determined to figure out. I craved her... but only because she wasn't you. She didn't want me back, she wanted no strings." _She was a slut- _I thought in my head.

"So you cheated on me," I muttered. "And broke my heart."

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm so sorry about that."

"You know," I began. "I've been wondering what I would say when I saw you again. Before my whole near death experience, I thought I murder you. You wrote me that amazing letter, and then on the phone, I heard her. That killed me, Brandon. That _killed _me. But after nearly dying, I see now that you were right. We had no business trying to have this perfect relationship in high school. It's high school for god's sake. I was trying to have this flawless romance, where we would run off together and live happily ever after. And if you'd have stayed around, we probably would've." Brandon nodded in agreement. "I don't know if I'll ever heal fully from you. Now, standing here, there's a little part of me that misses you. It's not like I want you back, I don't. I don't think I ever will, either. But I miss your company."

Brandon and I had managed to wander down a trail that wound around into the woods. When we reached a clearing, I stopped him, "I finally figured what I wanted to say to you. It's this: _I'm glad we happened_. I learned so much from you. I grew and matured and saw a whole new side of love. And for that, I will be eternally grateful to you. You also helped me realize where my heart really lies. It's here. This is my home. I want to be here, and to be with Andy. In breaking my heart, you finally showed me that I love Andy. I always had. I always will, Brandon. I love him. I love him more than anything. Because with him, I don't have to try. I don't have to be perfect."

"You didn't have to be perfect with me," Brandon retorted.

"I know... But I wanted to be. I don't want to be anything but me with Andy. And that's how I know that it's _him_." Saying these words aloud made them so much more clear to me. My heart ached for Andy.

"Peyton... you've got to tell him." I looked up into Brandon's face, and he nodded for me to go on. I led him back up the trail and we started back for the house. Brandon slung an arm around my shoulders, as if it was such a natural thing to do. I shuddered a bit, because he used to do that all the time back in Raleigh.

"I have," I laughed, picking back up the conversation. "I told him that I loved him. But he didn't say it back. He loves his girlfriend."

"He's crazy," Brandon chuckled. "There's no other explanation. He's crazy..." I grinned and leaned into him, knowing that we'd finally made peace. Together, we walked back to the house where Grandmama was making dinner. She invited him to stay, but he declined politely. When I asked him where he was staying, he said he could grab a room at the hotel 30 minutes away. I wouldn't have it, and I looked pointedly at Grandmama to invite him to stay with us. He tried to refuse, but both Grandmama and I insisted. We ate dinner together, making awkward conversation. Afterwards, I took Brandon down to the barn to introduce him to Ace. Brandon told me about his new girlfriend, and how he'd joined the cross country team. He told me everything I'd missed back in Raleigh.

And for that night, I got to be Peyton again. I knew that it was the last night for her, because from that night forward, I would be _Peyton Maye._


	29. Chapter 29

Waking up the next morning, it took a moment for me to remember that Brandon was still here. In my head, I calculated that he'd been here for almost 12 hours- a considerably long amount of time, since it felt like he'd only been here for a split second. I got dressed quickly, wanting to show Brandon my life here. The day would consist of a riding lesson- Brandon's first and possibly last, a trip to the Funky Chicken, so I could show him off to Hanna and Tom, maybe a drive down to my mom's house. There was so much that he'd never known about me. All that would change today, though. Part of me wanted to invite Andy, to _show _him that Brandon was nothing more than a friend.

Before I went downstairs, I figured I'd call my mom and check up on her. She answered on the first ring, still sounding groggy. "Hello?"

"Hey Mom," I said, cheerfully. "Wake up."

"Baby girl," my mom replied, sighing. "How are you honey?"

"Pleasantly surprised, actually," I laughed. "A very unexpected guest showed up to Grandmama's yesterday."

My mother hesitated for a moment, obviously aware of _who_ I was talking about. Yet, she still tried to act surprised when she asked, "Oh? And who's that?"

"C'mon Momma, you know who I'm talking about."

"I can't believe he got there so quickly," my mom laughed, breaking her facade. "He left yesterday morning... I drove him to the airport. He seemed like the old Brandon you used to run with, before ya'll started dating."

"Yeah, he's been great since he got here. _Some _people aren't taking it so well, but that's nothing to worry about, I'm sure..." I frowned as I thought of Andy. I wondered if he'd still stop by today, but I doubted it.

"Who are you talking about, honey?" My mom asked, and I could hear her scuffle around wherever she was. "Is Grandmama giving you some trouble about Brandon?"

"It's not so much Grandmama, more so... well, Momma, it's Andy. He's being so _weird _about Brandon being here. Even though.. it's nothing like he thinks it is."

"He still thinks you're caught up in Brandon, doesn't he?" My mom asked, following the things I was thinking more closely than what I was saying.

"_Yes!_" I sighed. "But... Momma, he has nothing to worry about."

"I know baby, I've known that since the day we left, but I just think that-" my mother was interrupted by a loud crash outside my window. I jumped, startled by the noise, and told her to hang on for a second. Peering through my window, I saw that the crash had been a door slamming and that Andy was the one who'd done it.

"Speak of the devil," I mumbled. "Momma, I've got to go. Andy's here..."

Obviously, I didn't need to say more because my mother agreed instantly, "Yeah, you should go honey. I just wanted to tell you something first, and it's important."

"Yeah?"

"Well, baby, I'm really needing to know what you're going to do about the upcoming fall. Are you coming back to Raleigh or are you staying with Grandmama?" I hadn't thought too hard about what I was doing, and suddenly being put on the spot like this made me nervous.

"Err," I began. "I'm not sure."

"Peyton, baby, I need to know. It's alright that you don't want to leave Grandmama _or _your friends down here, but you're going to need to choose. _Soon_."

"I don't know yet, Mom," I replied. "I'm not sure."

She exhaled heavily, "I'll give you until the end of the day to decide. Call me before 10 o'clock tonight with your decision."

"I will," I promised and we said our goodbyes. After I hung up the phone with my mom, I sat there for a moment, contemplating what I wanted to do. Did I want to leave here _again? _I knew that I probably should. I should leave Andy so that he can be happy with Naomi, but I just didn't know if I could. I didn't know if I could leave Arlene and Millie, either. That wasn't fair to leave _again_. But then, on the same turn, it wasn't fair that I just showed back up here, too. I'd come in like a missile, and threw everyone off balance.

"_PEYTON MAYE!_"

The sound of Grandmama shouting my name made me jump three feet off the ground. I crossed quickly to the door and threw it open. "Yes?" I cried back.

"Get down 'ere!" Grandmama sounded mad, and I hastily put on work clothes, wondering what chore I'd forgotten to do. But when I got to the kitchen, Grandmama didn't look mad. She frowned as she peered out the kitchen window.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to read her face. She looked worried.

"Go down t'the barn 'n make sure them boys don't fight. Andy looks like a puffed up hen 'n I don't think he'd miss a chance t'throw a punch." _Oh great, _I sighed. _That's all Brandon needs as a welcoming party_- _to get punched in the face_.

"I'm sure nothing will happen," I mumbled, distracted by the idea of Andy attacking Brandon- although he had no reason to. Andy and Brandon were the same size, and I knew Brandon would put up a fight. It was strange to me that I was suddenly fearful for both of them. I didn't want Andy to get hurt, but at the same time I didn't want to see Brandon lose either.

My feet crunched across the gravel path as I made my way out towards the barn, where Grandmama had said they went. _Please don't let them be arguing_, I prayed. Luckily, from what I could hear, they weren't... _yet_. There was no sound, actually. _Is that a good thing? _I wondered briefly. Silently, I crept into the barn- trying to avoid being detected. I don't really know why I was doing this, perhaps maybe to see if they were talking about me.

As I slinked closer, hiding myself behind the bed of Andy's truck, I could tell they were feeding horses. I could tell by the rhythm of their steps mixed with the rainfall sounds of feed as they dumped it into the trough. _Step, step, _the crunch of the feed as they scooped it into the bucket_, step, step, _and the clear cascade sound as the feed fell into the horses' troughs. I listened for a second, to make sure no footsteps fell my way. I'd walked in on the middle of their conversation, which- as I suspected- was about me.

"Ya' really shouldn't be 'ere," Andy said, laughing- but both Brandon and I could hear the threat etched into his words.

"You're probably right..." Brandon agreed, and Andy huffed. "But I had to see her, to make sure she was okay."

"Ya' coulda' just called," Andy retorted.

"Yes," Brandon had to tread carefully. "But... I felt like she deserved more than that."

"She did deserve more than ya'; ya' know... ya' really screwed things up with 'er." Andy took on a harsh tone as he spat the last sentence.

Brandon sighed, and I could picture him shaking his head. "_Trust me, _you should be _glad _that I did."

A stall door slammed and I heard Andy stomp across the drive in the barn. _Why would you say that Brandon? _"What did ya' just say? Ya' think it's _okay _that ya' just... _used _Peyton Maye? Ya' got some nerve there, boy."

I knew Brandon would stand up straighter, making himself taller than Andy. And as he towered over Andy, he replied- as cool as could be- "I know I screwed things up.. But don't you think you did there, too? She's back, and believe it or not, not so crazy about me anymore. And yet, here you stand- too stupid to realize it."

"What are ya' talkin' 'bout?" Andy murmured.

"Open your eyes-" _Oh no, _I thought. _Don't tell him_. "Peyton lo-"

"_Hey guys!_" I cried, shooting up before Brandon could finish his sentence.

"Hey," Brandon smiled at me. "Where'd you come from?" Andy shot me a look and then rolled his eyes- he'd known I was there the entire time. Before I could answer Brandon, there was a rumble behind me. I turned to see a shiny, white car pulling down the drive. _It can't be... _I thought, wondering why of all days, _she _was coming today. "Who's that?" Brandon asked, as Andy and I watched the car approach. Andy's face lit up and a stab of pain shot through me.

"Naomi," Andy and I said at the same time, although I sounded a lot less happy about it.

"Who's that?" Brandon asked again, laughing.

"Andy's _girlfriend_," I replied, leveling my gaze at Brandon. He nodded and then frowned, and mouthed _Oh crap_ in my direction. I nodded swiftly and watched as Andy strode out past me and opened the door for Naomi. She danced around the door and into his arms, where he picked her up and spun her around in a wide circle.

Brandon came up behind me and leaned close to whisper in my ear, "That should be _you_, Peyton." Hearing the words sent another flicker of pain through me.

"Don't say that," I whispered back. Brandon rubbed a reassuring hand across my shoulders. Andy and Naomi were approaching us, hand in hand, and I had to look away to keep from falling over in jealousy. _Stay calm, _I commanded myself. I hadn't seen Naomi in a few weeks, and I'd forgotten how _great _she looked. She wore faded cutoffs that didn't leave much to the imagination. They were so short that the pockets were visible _below _where the frayed scrap of fabric she called shorts ended. The tight white tank top clung her to her teensy tiny waste and I suddenly regretted wearing my baggy tee shirt that had "Hugs, Not Drugs" written in faded ink across the back.

Naomi was also in a full face of makeup and her hair flowed, very model-like, in the wind. My wild mane was pulled up in a high bun and my work boots were covered in mud. Compared to her, I looked like three day old tuna salad. She narrowed her wolf like eyes in my direction and flashed Brandon a perfect smile, "Hi, I'm Naomi."

"So I've heard," Brandon grunted, extending a hand. She took it and looked up at him through her long eyelashes. Andy _humphed _and wrapped a secure arm around her waist, pulling her in to kiss her temple. I kicked a cloud of dust up with my boot, trying to mask the _perfect _couple from view. Brandon's words resonated in my head- _that should be me. _Naomi looked at Brandon expectantly, obviously waiting for his name in return... though I doubted she didn't know it. When she cleared her throat loudly, Brandon squinted. "Oh.. uh, Brandon. I'm Brandon."

"It's very nice to meet ya'," Naomi giggled, still not letting go of Brandon's hand. Andy tugged at the back of her shirt and tried to discreetly point that out to her. When she finally got it, she laughed- louder this time- and dropped his hand. "So Brandon, you're Peyton's ex, right?"

"That I am," he replied. Andy laughed and I shot him a look that would've knocked anyone else dead; it only made Andy laugh harder.

"If ya' don't mind me askin', why are ya' here then?" Naomi pressed. "Not that... I'm wantin' ya' to leave or anythin'." Andy and I both swiveled around to stare at her. _Was she flirting with Brandon? In front of Andy? _

Brandon shifted, uncomfortable, "I just... came to talk to Peyton."

"Well.. why don't we _all _talk? Over lunch? My house?" Naomi smiled.

"Uh... Actually, we have plans." Andy murmured.

"No we don't, don't be _silly_," she chuckled, playfully throwing an elbow in Andy's side.

Brandon looked at me, obviously not sure what to say. I stepped in, "No.. thanks, I was going to take Brandon to the Funky Chicken."

"Oh! That's even betta', I'm starvin'! Let's go there, Andy." Naomi turned to Andy with a pitiful pout. "Please?" She held the _-ease_ out a lot longer than she needed to. Andy looked at me, and I knew that he didn't want to tell Naomi no. The look in his eyes was asking my permission, and my heart got the best of me. I shrugged and mouthed _I don't care_. Smiling, Andy turned to Naomi and nodded. "Perfect! We can all take my car."

"No, thanks. Brandon and I will drive separate," I told her. Going to lunch with Naomi was enough for me. "I guess we'll see you there then."

"Yeah, see ya'll," Andy said as he and Naomi left.

"You sure about this?" Brandon asked me.

"Not at all..." I murmured. "But here goes nothing."


	30. Chapter 30

_This isn't going to end well..._ I thought, as I slid into the booth next to Brandon. Naomi and Andy sat across from me- Andy pouting and Naomi batting her eyelashes in Brandon's direction. _Why is Andy letting her do this? _I couldn't help but wonder. _Why _was _she doing this in the first place? She's dating Andy, yet she's sitting here ogling Brandon. What the hell? _Uncle Tom had almost hit the floor when the four of us walked in, and continued to stare at us from the hostess stand. Andy looked up at me and gave me a small smile, so unenthused that I thought I would laugh. He only spoke when Tom came over to get drink orders, then went back to staring at the patterns on the table.

Naomi began to fling questions in Brandon's direction. Where he was from, why he was here, what he liked in a girl, how he and I met- she was relentless. When she asked him if she was the type of girl he would date, it finally hit me what she was doing. She was making Andy jealous- she was getting her revenge. She'd always been so jealous of my and Andy's relationship, so now she was taking her sweet time inflicting the same pain on Andy. Poor Brandon tried to delicately refute her "innocent" questions with optimistic courtesy, but she wouldn't let up. At one point she leaned forward and _winked_.

That did me in. I shot up. "I need air," I huffed. I couldn't take it anymore. Naomi was sitting here, flirting with Brandon. How did she not see what she had? Why did she even _think _to jeopardize that? And Andy was sitting there... letting her. He wasn't saying anything. How could he do that?

"Are you okay?" Brandon asked me, reaching out to grasp my hand. Andy saw and looked up at me.

I shook my head, meet Naomi's smirking eyes. With a noise of disgust, I threw off Brandon's hand. "No, I need to step out." Without another word, I slid out of the booth and stalked off. Outside, the heat was sweltering. It was almost too hot to bear, but I couldn't go back inside. I couldn't sit through anymore of that. It wasn't that I was mad that she was flirting with Brandon; it was that Andy was letting her. I wanted Andy to just turn to her and at least demand for her to shut up. But he let her just throw herself at Brandon, like it was no big deal. Even then, it wasn't that I wanted Andy to stand up for himself. If he loved her- thinking that caused me pain- if he loved her like he said he did, then why didn't this bother him? Loving her was the only thing keeping him from me, that's why it bothered me. Because if he did love her, then Naomi flirting would bother him. But if he didn't love her, then it wouldn't. But if didn't love her, then he should want me. But he didn't...

Behind me, I heard the door open. I didn't have to turn to know that Brandon had probably come to check on me. "Go away," I said. "I just need to be alone right now, Brandon."

"It's not Brandon," another voice replied. _Oh Jesus,_ I rolled my eyes. _Just what I needed. _"Why'd ya' leave, Peyton Maye?"

"Andy... go away. I especially don't want to see you." I huffed, folding my arms.

Andy didn't stop; instead, he came and plopped down next to me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lied, looking away. _Go back to your girlfriend, _I commanded him in my head. _Just go away. _

"Peyton Maye, _somethin'_ is obviously wrong. It's been wrong fer' a while now.. I've seen it _in your face_ fer' a while now. Just talk t'me." Andy reached out to touch my shoulder. Didn't he know that the littlest touch from him made my heart beat quicken? Didn't he know the affect he had on me?

"Fine," I retorted, swiveling around. "You want to know what's wrong? Her. Your girlfriend."

"What 'bout 'er?" Andy looked kind of hurt. That only made me angrier.

"She's in there _flirting _with Brandon and you're just letting her! What is up with that?" My voice shot up an octave.

Andy remained completely calm. "I don't 'er fer' that... Brandon's a flirt.. I knew he was'a gonna' do _somethin' _like that."

"_You blame _Brandon _for that slut's actions?_" I was in shock. "You really must be blind, Andrew Cuttsinger."

This made him do a double take. I saw his nostrils flare as he attempted to control his anger. _Good, _I thought. _Get angry. Let's hear you defend Ms. Sawyer. _"First off, Peyton Maye... she's not a slut. Naomi is'a very classy girl. 'N second off, I don't 'spect ya' t'understand- seein' that ya' is'a unda' his spell, too."

"_What?_" I laughed. "I'm under Brandon's spell. You think that I'm on Brandon's side because I'm under his _spell_? Ha, you're funny."

"Why else would'a he be 'ere?" Andy asked. "O'... why else would'a ya' let 'em stay? Feelin's are still'a there, I unda'stand. Ya' don't Naomi flirtin' with 'em 'cuz ya' is'a jealous. I see it, don't worry."

"You really _must _be crazy," I cried. "You think I love Brandon?"

"I know ya' do... Why wouldn't ya'? I just 'spected more outta' ya', Peyton Maye. Ya' know ya' can do so much betta'." From the look on Andy's face, he was completely sincere.

"If you think I'm in love with Brandon, you've lost it. Don't you see why Brandon's here? He came to make sure I was okay. I did almost die, if you haven't forgotten. And Andy, Brandon stayed because he sees how this is driving me insane. He's staying so that I don't jump off a bridge waiting for you to open your damn eyes!"

"What is there t'see?" Andy mumbled.

"Why I'm still here... Why I've subjected myself to torture. Yes Andy, it's torture to watch you with Naomi. You don't think that it kills me to see you with her? Andy, I'm not mad because Naomi is flirting with Brandon! I don't care who she flirts with! I care that you're letting her. Because, supposedly, you love her... and yet, you're letting her do this? That says a lot about how you feel about her. You loving her... it's nothing. It's a lie! Admit it Andy, it's a lie! A big fat heap of untruth! You don't love her, because if you did you wouldn't let her do it. I know you. I know everything about you, and I've seen you in love. We've all seen it- Millie, Arlene, Tommy, Sandra and Charlie. We've seen it! And what we're seeing right now, what _I'm _seeing right now, is you not being in love. Andy, you don't love her, _you can't_."

Andy leveled his gaze, and gritted his teeth. He stood there, just staring at me for a few painful seconds before he whispered, very carefully, "Why is that, Peyton Maye? Why can't I love 'er?"

"I just told you," I exhaled noisily.

"No ya' didn't," Andy replied, still in a small voice.

We looked at each other, and I felt tears well in my eyes. _He knew. _Andy knew how I felt. It was clear as day on his face. "I've already told you," I whispered so quietly I wasn't sure if he'd heard it. Involuntarily, I took a step forward. "I've already told you why Andy; I told you when I was hanging off the side of the cliff. I've told you in my head a thousand times since then. And I told it to you 2 years ago."

"Tell me again," Andy replied, taking a step towards me as well. We were staring so intently at each other that the building could've exploded and I wouldn't have noticed. "Tell me again, Peyton Maye."

It was then that I jumped towards Andy, flinging my arms around him. Before he could say anything, I kissed him. I kissed him with everything I had- every tear I'd cried over him, ever smile we'd exchanged, every touch, every unspoken word, every fight, everything I'd ever felt. I didn't care about anything else; I couldn't. The only thought in my mind was how much I loved Andy. Love flowed through my veins, filled my eyes with tears, pulled my body closer to Andy's and knocked the air out of me. _I love you_, I screamed in my mind. "I love you," I whispered against Andy's lips.

For a moment, Andy stood there- either shocked or angry- and didn't kiss me back. But then, after the initial reaction wore off, I felt his arms wind around me. And he kissed me back. My heart swelled when I felt his mouth respond to mine and I threw myself into the kiss even more. "Andy," I began to cry... in between moments of our lips locked together. Slowly I pulled back, and without opening my eyes, I breathed, "Andy I love you. I've always loved you. There is no one else in my heart- simply because there isn't room. I love you more than life. You are the only one who's ever mattered."

I could feel Andy begin to say something, when _her _shrill voice cut through the air, "What is goin' on?" Instantly, Andy stiffened, and jumped back from me- like I'd shocked him. Naomi stood, with her fists clenched at her side. She looked like a snake, coiled and ready to strike, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Naomi... it isn't what it looks like," Andy began and I turned to him.

"No!" I cried, stepping back towards Andy. He held up his hands, stopping me. _No, I know you were going to say it back. I know you were going to tell me you love me, too! I know you were, please, please, please, please don't do this, Andy! Don't fight this; don't fight fate! _

"Ya' lyin', cheatin', good fer' nothin' dog! I shoulda' neva' trusted ya'!" Naomi stamped her foot and began to cry. Suddenly, I took a step back. I took two steps back. Naomi reminded me of someone I knew a very long time ago... _me_. I had been Naomi with Brandon. Seeing Brandon with another girl had ripped me in half, ripped my soul to shreds. Although the situation had been jilted- as I had not flirted with other guys in front of him and the girl he'd cheated on me with wasn't in love with him- he'd still cheated. Andy, too, had just cheated on Naomi. And I'd been the other woman, after I vowed that I would never, ever be the other woman. I would never do that to another girl, and yet... I'd just done it. What was wrong with me?

"I'm.. I'm so sorry," I mumbled, and staggered backwards again. "I didn't mean to.. I just... I didn't," I was blubbering. "I'm sorry.."

Naomi turned to me, her eyes livid, her whole body shaking with rage. "You! Ya' little tramp!" She began to close the distance between us, howling like a banshee. I could feel her hands clawing into my hair before she was even in arm's length. I closed my eyes, awaiting the impact of a fist or slap. But there was nothing. Instead, I felt a body move in front of me. I peek out from behind my lids to see Andy blocking her path to me. She shrieked even louder.

"Stop," Andy commanded. "Stop this, Naomi."

"How dare ya' stick up fer' 'er!" Naomi cried. "Afta' ya' betray me, ya' defend this _slut!" _

"She's not a slut," Andy replied, calmly.

"Are ya' kiddin' me?" Naomi screeched. "Andy Cuttsinger, this relationship is ova'. I'm done with bein' second best t'er. I'm done!" With that, Naomi began to cry. Her hard exterior crumbled and she began to sob, heart-wrenching sobs. I finally witnessed the Naomi that wasn't a snobby brat. She was so normal, that it took my breath away. Seeing her heart breaking broke my own heart. I suddenly felt so bad about kissing Andy, and was so disgusted with myself that I wanted to shower to scrub my skin where ever Andy had touched me. Andy, too, must have felt something change about Naomi because he extended a hand towards her.

"Baby," he whispered.

"No!" she screamed, throwing his hand off. "Don't ya' dare touch me! Touch 'er! Ya' don't get t'touch me again!" God, I'd heard those same words come out of my own mouth. Naomi looked around to leave, it was apparent on her face. But when she realized that Andy had driven her here she let out another broken sob.

"Andy," I begged, looking over at him. But he ignored me, even if I was going to ask him to help her. Andy didn't even so much as blink when I said his name, which stung just a little. It was like there was a battle raging inside of me. Part of me wanted to regret and repent the kiss, but the other part of me was on cloud nine. _Andy had kissed me back? _That fact suddenly hit me like a brick. _Andy had kissed me! Andy hadn't pushed me away! Andy felt _something _back! _But then Naomi would let loose another sob and I'd slap _myself _for being so selfish. She loves him and I just made him cheat. _No, I didn't make him cheat. He did it of his own free will. But he still cheated. No, no he didn't do it on purpose- it's fate. Shut up about fate, Peyton! _The war raged on in my mind.

"_Don't say his name!_" Naomi screamed, reeling on me. "_Ya' don't get t'say his name_."

"Baby, please just calm down. Please... we'll go back t'your house 'n talk this out." Andy stepped up to Naomi, even as she beat against his chest with her balled up fists, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders- something Brandon hadn't done. Andy didn't care that she was fighting him, he continued to just hold her. I watched as she gave up fighting him, and just cried. She cried and cried and cried.

"Why?" she begged. "Why did ya' do this t'me? I loved ya'." She repeated it over and over.

"I'm so sorry," Andy answered. "I'm so sorry, baby." Watching them together, I knew he wasn't going to leave me for Naomi. I knew that even if he didn't love her in a conventional way, even if it wasn't in the way I thought he should... he still loved her. She was his, and as I'd said multiple times, had been a fool to think that I'd ever win him back. Even if he had kissed me, he'd never actually said he loved me back. The best thing I could do right now was leave, it was the wisest choice for everyone.

And so, I motioned to Brandon, who joined me silently. Together, we walked back to his car and climbed in wordlessly. As soon as we pulled away, I, too, began to cry. I wasn't crying because of the Andy situation... I was crying because I'd finally made the choice that my mom was waiting for. Silently, I pulled out my cellphone and dialed her. She picked up on the first ring. "Mom..." I sighed. "I've made my choice."

"Yes honey?"

"I think..." I took a deep breath and looked over at Brandon. He smiled and took my hand. "I think I'm coming home."


	31. Chapter 31

By eight o'clock the next morning, I was all packed and ready to head home. Brandon had called his mom and scheduled his return flight the same time as mine so we could fly back together. He knew how much I needed someone there and hadn't let go of my hand since we'd gotten in the car to go to the airport. I'd spent the previous night in silence- not crying, just numb. It was how I sat now, staring out the window in the back of Grandmama's pickup truck. She'd tried to convince me not to go, told me that I was more than welcome to stay, but I'd only responded by shaking my head. I couldn't be here anymore- my home was no longer here. It was time I'd accepted that.

I didn't call any of the group. It was better to not say goodbyes. I wanted to make it seem as though I'd never come this summer- never disrupted their lives. I didn't need to muddy anymore water. As we drove down the long, windy road, I thought back to this summer- to all I'd seen and learned. Everyone was so different now than they were and I'd been a fool to think that everything would the same. I'd come here, believing that time had frozen when I'd left, and would pick right back up when I returned. But it hadn't. It never would. Time continued to move, things continued to evolve- it wouldn't stop for anyone or anything, including me. And there was nothing I, or anyone else, would ever be able to do about that fact.

"Peyton Maye," Grandmama said, glancing in her rearview mirror at me. I met her eyes briefly, and then averted my gaze. She didn't wait for me to respond, "Dawlin', ya' don't have t'leave." She's said it a million times, citing every reason why I should stay.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, in response. "But I can't. And you know why, too." At this, she bowed her head for a moment. She knew how deeply my love ran for Andy, as she'd told me last night. Apparently, she'd known all along. I guess everyone had, even myself. That was the funny thing about a love like my and Andy's- it never really went away. A bond like that can't be erased with time or distance. While certain obstacles may arise, deep down, love doesn't fade. We leave our marks- like scars- on the people we love, and forever carry theirs in return. Love was the battle we fought, either allied against the world or ultimately against each other. Either way, we all come out marred. The least I could hope for was that the scars, with time and a lot of emotional release, would fade into thin white strips of memory.

Andy and I had fought a long, hard battle together. Two years ago, I'd betrayed his trust- cut him down behind his back. Then, this year, I'd returned to nurse the wounds I'd left, only to find another in my place. This is the problem with leaving wounds on the one we love- we never know who will be there to heal them. In my case, Naomi stepped into my place with ease and she, herself, had left her own mark on Andy and I was now rendered powerless. Brandon squeezed my hand, and I slid out of my reverie. "Almost there," he breathed, and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek.

"Almost there," I repeated my voice hollow. In my head, I wondered how it'd come to this. Had I been so stupid to come here and not expect a tragic end? Had I really believed that I could just wipe the past from my mind? Was I so naive? _You're so stupid, Peyton._ I shook my head and leaned into Brandon, letting him put an arm around. He pulled me close and wiped the stray tear off my cheek with his thumb. "No... No more crying," I told him. "I promise." It wasn't fair for me to cry, I'd done this to myself. I'd hurt myself, why should I let someone comfort me? I wanted to feel pain, I wanted to suffer internally- however dark and masochistic that may have sounded. I needed to just revel in my choice- and see what a fool I'd been. Parts of me prayed, begged, hoped that I could feel enough pain and suffer through enough- all in one giant sweep- to just _get it over with._ I didn't want to suffer forever, so I'd rather rip my soul in half now.

Brandon kept mumbling into my ear, trying to soothe me, and I didn't have the heart to tell him that all he was doing was driving the knife deeper into my ribs. With every kind word he gave me, I felt stupider and stupider. And I tried to close my eyes, to imagine that Andy was the one holding me now. I wanted to see Andy smile at me, not out of pity or even out of lust, but just to smile. I wanted Andy as he was 2 years ago; I wanted the Andy I'd left. _You'll never get him, Peyton. You missed your chance. _

_You missed your chance. You missed your chance. You missed your chance. _

I repeated it a million times- all through the check-in, boarding, and the two flights in stiff leather chairs next to crying, screaming children. I'd lost my chance. I didn't cry, didn't shut down... I was functioning, but just enough. Brandon talked, joked even, all the way home- he was excited to get back to his normal life, to a life that was safe. In Charlotte, during our connecting flight, I looked over at Brandon's profile and studied him for a moment.

He turned to look at me and smiled. "What are you staring at?"

I didn't say anything, just shook my head and looked away. Brandon would be the good choice. And I knew, that will a little flirting here and a glance or two there, I could win him back. It wouldn't be for love, at least not in my case. I would be with him to just have someone. The idea sickened me, that I would betray Andy like that. But then I'd remembered my mantra: _You missed your chance. _

And with that, the repetition began again. Brandon persisted to know what I was thinking, but I continued to just shake my head. I knew that if I opened my mouth, every emotion would come tumbling out. Right now, I was surviving between my head and heels. I was like a turtle, pulled back in my shell. I couldn't stick my neck out, for fear of being attacked. It was best to just wait it out until I was home, where I could crumble to pieces by myself.

When we finally arrived in Raleigh, both Brandon and I were exhausted. We lugged our way through the baggage claim and outside into the humid summer night. It was nearly ten, and I wanted to curl in a ball and sleep for days. Brandon, too, seemed to be drifting in between a state of consciousness and sleep as he pulled my suitcase off of the belt. "Wake up, you've still got to drive me home," I mumbled- nudging him a bit. He caught my elbow and swung me around gently.

"Hey..." He whispered, looking down into my eyes. He brushed a piece of hair back from my face and reached back to let my wild curls out of the hair tie. He swept palms carefully across both my cheeks and wiped my bottom lip with this thumb. For a moment, I wondered if he would kiss me, and stiffened- thinking back to my internal monologue in Charlotte. _Could I do this? Could I be with Brandon...? _

Then Brandon pulled me into a hug and stroked my back, "It's going to be okay..." I had to keep myself carefully composed and not fall apart in his arms, as it would have been so easy to do. I straightened and stepped back, out of his embrace. Brandon sensed my forced composure, I suppose, because he let me go easily. We hauled our bags outside and to Brandon's car. I fell asleep on the ride home and awoke only to Brandon softly shaking me. "Wake up sweetheart, we're here."

"My mom isn't home," I realized. When I told her I was coming home, she said she was as well. I must've beaten her here, so I would be alone tonight- no one would be there to catch me as I toppled off of my safe reverie into the pits of despair. Brandon offered to come inside, but I wouldn't let him. It was time I faced this demon head on; I couldn't be sad forever, which comforted me... even if it was a lie. For a moment, I wondered how long it would take me to stop thinking about Andy. I wondered if I would ever move on... and if so, with whom? I knew the answer the moment I posed the question- _Brandon. _But this, I shoved out of my mind; I had other things to worry about right now.

As I stepped up to my door, painted a charcoal gray, I took a deep breath. My hand reached up and brushed the flaking gold doorknob and with a shaking hand, I unlocked it. I held my breath as I slowly turned the knob, and listened as the bolts slid back. There was a slight catch in the door and I had to push just a bit to get the door open. It creaked as it rotated back on its hinges and revealed the dark house that looked like the mouth of a giant, ready to swallow me into its depths. The house was cold, like the airy rooms within my heart and I could hear the silence buzz in my ear drums. Behind me, Brandon's window hummed as it rolled down. "You going to be okay?" He called out to me and I turned, briefly, meeting his gaze.

"I'll call you in the morning," I replied. He went to say something, but I turned my back to him, once again facing the darkness. I felt like I was passing into another world as I stepped through the door frame. And in truth, I was. I was shutting myself away from Kentucky, away from Brandon, away from Andy... away from it all. I was shutting myself off, and as I shut my front door to the outside night, I shut the doors on my heart and threw the deadbolt into place.

I didn't turn on the light, or unpack. I merely dropped my bags and slumped against the door, letting the pitch black- as dark as obsidian- swallow me whole. It seeped through my pores into my bloodstream and sent a chill racing up my spine. Pulling a blanket out of the laundry room, I wandered upstairs. In my room, which seemed so different now. The despair, the utter emptiness was attempting to sneak up on me, but I could see it on the midnight horizon. It was there, looming like a blank cloud, building in strength. It pulled the world down into a pinpoint, and I could focus on nothing else. I could feel it bubbling inside of me, like a beast, clawing with fiery talons at my throat. It ripped through my body, like a bullet, and I doubled with the pain. "No..." I sobbed, straightening with effort. "I won't... cry..." I wanted to hold off the flood gates, but they came rushing in like a tsunami. The waves lapping over my head, as they consumed me, enveloped me in pain.

I collapsed to the floor, missing my bed by inches. Every shard, every fragment of pent up emotions pulsed through me in massive capacities and I couldn't cry fast enough. Darkness covered me like a quilt, pressing me down into the floor like a lead carpet. I was suffocating and I gasped to breathe, but it was a labored effort. My heart was beating a million miles an hour, and I was so close to internal combustion, that I cried out in the looming darkness.

I was so utterly _alone_. I had fallen into a deep, black pit- and couldn't find a way up. The walls of this prison within my heart were too steep to climb. Time moved in slow motion as I curled onto the floor. Hours, minutes, centuries... I wasn't sure... passed. Did I lie there through fall? Did the flaming leaves swirl downward in spirals? And when the autumn ticked away, did the snow come with the cold? I was sure that I'd made it to spring, and could see the new buds spring up through my floorboards. And so, I did something crazy. I drew my phone towards me and dialed the number I knew I shouldn't.

He picked up on the first ring, "Peyton Maye?"

I didn't say anything; I was frozen; just hearing his voice shattered me like a pane of glass. "Peyton," Andy insisted, louder this time. "_Peyton Maye_." Still, I couldn't find the words that I'd held inside of me for so long. Instead, I hit the end button and rolled over to sob harder. I was broken. My soul was broken. The seams had been ripped out... and I was unraveling. Was it possible to hurt this much?

More time passed, and somehow, I managed to keep breathing. Then something miraculous happened- the dawn came. Rays of light cut the window and threw a pink shade of light around me. The darkness lifted slowly, and I was able to crawl onto my bed. There, I could see the world outside. It was still summer, the morning was just beginning to peak over horizon. She smiled at me, as she sent a flutter of birds my way. In distance, I could see a blackbird approaching. He swooped high and cut across the purple expanse of morning. The blackbird, like the one I'd seen the morning I'd realized I was still in love with Andy. For a moment, I waited for the sadness to take me under again. But it didn't come. The tide was now receding and I was able to stand, dripping wet and take in the actual beauty of the sea.

It was the same with Andy. The shock of being without him, of having failed at getting him back was gone. I was still sad, and the sadness was still there- the deep, dark pit of despair. But there was something else: acceptance. I had loved. I had loved with all my heart, and still did. I had seen something so magnificent, tasted the waters of forever. And though I was not able to dive into their depths, I was able to wade for a while. And now, I could stand on the shore and watch the waves. There was a certain beauty there, too. I had loved Andy; together, we had cut a new path in life and run, headfirst, forward into the unknown- together. Although we'd diverged at the fork in the road, we still were moving forward, holding tight to the memory of each other.

I would be okay, I realized. One day, maybe not today... or tomorrow, but one day, I would be okay. I would live. My heart, however broken, would continue to beat. I sat up on my bed, watching the blackbird fly through the sky.

And then, with stiff muscles and a bruised heart, I did something wonderful... _I smiled._


	32. Chapter 32

It was three weeks later when I realized I was still breathing. I'd made it past the first night, and then on through the next day. As I'd watched the sun set from my back deck, I realized that out there- 16 hours and three thousand something miles away- the same sun was setting over Grandmama, Arlene and the gang and Andy. My mom arrived home the following morning and for the few hours she could stay in Raleigh, we discussed everything that had happened over the summer. Thinking and speaking of Andy was tough, and I caught myself before I could tear up when speaking of our kiss at Backwood. But I didn't cry. In fact, even after my mom left again, and I was alone, I didn't crumble into nothing. I watched the sun set every night, watched as the lazy rays settled down over the tree tops, and thought of him. I hoped that he forgave me for leaving without an explanation, although I knew it was not something to ask forgiveness for.

For three weeks, I lived waiting for the sunset, proving that I'd made it through another day without him. There wasn't much pain now... just a solemn reverie I wandered through. Brandon came by regularly to see me, and although he said it was just to hang out, I knew he was making sure I hadn't turned catatonic. But when I finally woke up, as it felt I did, and realized that I'd made it so far, I was proud of myself. With this, I also felt a twinge of sadness, but it was fleeting. I couldn't dwell in the past forever, I knew this. And although it would have been so simple to wallow in self-pity, to roll in the fact that my prince charming didn't rescue me... I had done something that not most fairytale damsels did- I rescued myself; I pulled myself out of the deadly situation alone.

Three weeks. _So far, so good, _I thought to myself as I wandered around my kitchen, trying to find something for breakfast. The house was like a shell without my mother here; she always brought certain warmth that no amount of heat could. I missed her terribly, and couldn't wait until her show season was over and she'd come home. On the sticky note that I was jotting down my grocery list, I reminded myself to send her flowers for her opening night in Pittsburgh.

I sighed, and turned to pour a glass of tea for myself. As I added in a teaspoon of sugar, my phone buzzed on the counter. I looked down to see Brandon had texted me, asking if he could come over. I told him he could and turned back to my tea, taking a sip and smiling hollowly. It was odd how quickly I'd fallen back into my normal routine. Raleigh life had accepted me back into its arms without any questions. Strangely, I'd missed this place. As I carried my glass out with me onto the back porch, I was greeted with something I hadn't expected. At my feet, there was a single red leaf. I looked up to see twenty more on the trees.

Autumn was coming. The summer was beginning to fade, and it was only the first week of August. With August would come a new face to the world around me, and all the fingerprints of summer and of the events that had taken place would fade. I would not see the blackbird return, as he would soon be headed down south for the summer. This realization, in one way, saddened me. I didn't want to lose the summer memories to the brittle winds of fall. Then, at the same time, I also wanted a chance to start over. The memories wouldn't fade in my heart, but it would be nice to not have them forced down my throat on a daily basis.

When I had finished my tea, I meandered back inside and set about to busying myself until Brandon arrived. For an hour, I checked my email and sorted through laundry. I couldn't imagine what was taking Brandon so long... He lived less than ten minutes away. When the laundry was folded and the emails were deleted or marked as spam, I decided to sit down with my copy of _Wuthering Heights. _Catherine and Heathcliff were always my two favorite novel characters.

I opened to my favorite quote, the one that reminded me of Andy... And just as I began to read the line about how Catherine knew her and Heathcliff's souls were twined together, I stopped. Something... I couldn't put my finger on it... but something was different. I could feel it. It wasn't the fact that fall was here, or that I wasn't curled up in pain on the floor. Something was just... _off_. The air around me had suddenly changed, and I stood to ward off the dizziness. My heartbeat quickened to keep time with a hummingbird's wings. I stepped around my couch and stood staring at my front door.

Catherine's words resonated in my head, though I hadn't read one. For a moment, I was in Wuthering Heights, staring out over the black night when Heathcliff had run out on his love. The two lovers, Catherine and Heathcliff, were in the throes of a self-consuming, fiery romance, and Catherine had left to escape being a simple girl- much like Andy and I. In three years, Catherine moved on, only to have Heathcliff return. Three years... three weeks, the parallels were too surreal for me.

I had to pinch myself to stop shaking. Yet, as I took a tentative step towards my door, I couldn't help but hope. Had my Heathcliff come home to me? Had he returned to his Catherine? The air tasted of copper and heat as I stood with my palms pressed against my front door. "Heathcliff," I breathed as I gripped the knob and gave it one rough twist, flinging in back. Light flooded in, and for a moment, I was temporarily blinded. Then, as my eyes adjusted, I saw the outline of the figure standing on my welcome mat. My heart swelled ten times its normal size and a smile stretched across my face.

"Hey," he greeted me, and my face fell in disappointment. Brandon gave a small wave and I sighed. Heathcliff hadn't returned; Andy wasn't there for me. I slumped against the door frame, suddenly exhausted and gave Brandon a weak smile. "So I've made a decision," he announced.

"Yes?" I asked kind of hoping that he'd leave.

"We're going out. You're going to get out of those pajamas that I know you've had on since the last time I saw you. We're going to go grab some lunch and then maybe a movie." He reached out to take my hand and led me back inside.

"No," I protested, "I'm fine. Really. I was actually just going to read."

"Peyton," Brandon stopped me by holding up his hand. "We're friends, and it's my job as your friend to tell you the truth. And the truth is this: you're not doing okay. I know that you're still pushing through life, but to be honest... it's a half-ass thing. You're not the same, and so I'm making it my personal mission to see you better."

I frowned, "First, I haven't been wearing these pajamas since you last saw me." That was a lie, but it was what Brandon needed to hear. "And second..." For a moment, I wanted to protest, and tell Brandon that I was doing just fine, as I'd said earlier. But then, I looked around me, realizing that I'd stared at these walls for three weeks, and it was getting pretty repetitive.

"And second?" Brandon pressed.

"Okay... Okay, I'll go." I gave him another smile and moved to pick up my copy of _Wuthering Heights. _Heathcliff could wait, right now... Catherine needed a break. Brandon rushed me upstairs and I slid into the white dress I'd worn to the pig-picking. When I emerged at the top of the stairs, Brandon's face lit up.

"You look great, not like Death at all... not that you did, or anything." He winked at me and held out a hand. I slipped mine into it and let him pull me out the door. That day, we did just as he promised. We ate lunch at the cutest bistro downtown and then went to see some French film that the local newspaper was raving about. It was such a relaxing afternoon, and conversation between Brandon and I flowed endlessly. We talked about everything... except of course, the one thing we both knew I couldn't.

Talking with Brandon took me back to the previous year, before I'd dated him, before this summer... before _everything_. Looking back, I realized how much I'd grown in such a short amount of time. I was no longer the frail, naive girl I had been. I'd loved, and been broken, and fallen back in love. But I'd done something grander than all of those combined: I'd found myself.

I'd finally figured out who I was, unconnected to Andy or Brandon. I was Peyton Maye Hale. It didn't matter what I was called, because a name was just a name. I was a girl who loved with everything she had, who ran headfirst into situations without hesitation, I was brash and a bit selfish... but I was content with who I'd become. I had friends and family who loved me and I had a bright future ahead of me. This life, my life, hadn't ended because Andy or Brandon hadn't stayed with me. If I never spoke to either again, yes... it would hurt. Yes, I could feel as though I was being ripped apart at the very core of my soul, but I would make it. I could live without Andy's love... I just didn't want to.

This realization was freeing, liberating... And I was suddenly calm, not empty- but at peace. I was at peace with the situation, and its conclusion.

It was in this mindset that Brandon and I drove back to my house, but before he let me out of the car, he stopped me. "You seem different... Different from when we went out this morning."

"I am," I replied, smiling at him.

"Care to share?" He asked, returning the grin.

"I'm just... I'm _okay._" I wasn't happy, but I was content. I was, like I'd told him, _okay_. It made me chuckle just a bit.

"Oddly enough," Brandon murmured. "I believe you and," he paused. "I'm really glad. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You know it," I said, kissing him on the cheek. "I'll see you later." We exchanged another smile and I turned to walk up to the door. My whole porch was covered in darkness, as I had forgotten to turn on the porch light. I fumbled towards the door and was groping around for the door knob when the same feeling I'd had earlier- the one brought on by Heathcliff and Catherine- flashed through me. "Don't be silly," I whispered aloud, now trying to find my key to unlock the door. "He isn't here. Andy's not coming for you."

"Ya' sure 'bout that?" The question came from behind me in the darkness, and I swiveled around, letting a terrorized scream erupt from my throat. Then, as the initial fear wore off, I realized who'd just spoken.

"_Andy._" I said, more as a statement than a question. My eyes had adjusted enough to where I could see the outline of Andy, in his worn white t-shirt and jeans, standing less than four feet away from me. I was frozen in fear and shock and... _Ecstasy. _Andy was here. Andy was here.

_Andy was here._ The thought hit me like a ton of bricks and I suddenly regained mobility in my limbs. Throwing myself forward, I pulled Andy into the tightest hug I could manage and breathed in the scent of him. Andy didn't return it, and this scared me even more. "Hey Peyton Maye," he breathed against my hair.

"I've missed you," I stammered, my heart racing as I spoke the words. I'd missed him so much, so much that now, it hurt to realize it. I thought I might cry, but the shock must have staved off the waterworks.

Andy pulled back and put his hands on my arms, holding me at arm's length. He looked tired, and almost angry. I wished he would smile, or tell me why he'd come. We stood there in silence for a moment, before Andy asked, "Can we go inside?"

"Of course," I barked, blushing at my bad manners. "Yeah, we can. Of course..." I turned and this time had no trouble unlocking the door. Andy followed me into the house and looked around. I led him into the kitchen and turned to pull my hair up into a hair tie.

"Don't..." Andy started, holding out a hand. "Don't do that... Don't put your hair up."

"Okay?" I said, pulling the tie out. Something was off with him. Andy didn't offer an explanation to anything... just looked around awkwardly. "Uhm..." I began, clearing my throat. "Can I get you something?"

"I'm fine," Andy replied. "Can we sit?" He didn't give me time to respond, but walked back towards the living room.

I followed without a word and sat down on the overstuffed chair opposite of the couch where Andy was perched. "Okay Andy, this is crazy. You're acting weird- not saying anything. I'm sorry; I don't mean to be rude like this but-"

Andy cut me off with a hand. "Why did ya' leave?"

"You know why Andy... Because you stayed with Naomi after I told you I loved you, _again_." He knew this; he'd been there. He was still acting weird.

"Ya' didn't have t'leave, though," Andy whispered. "Ya' coulda' stayed."

"But what would've been the point? Yeah, I could've stayed and subjected myself to watching you and Naomi frolic around like love-struck puppies. Yeah, _real fun, _Andy." I rose in frustration and crossed behind the chair. "You wouldn't have stayed, if the situation had been reversed... You know that."

"Ya're right," Andy replied. "I woulda' made ya' come with me though."

My head snapped up. "_What_? The whole reason I left was because you were still with Naomi. I was letting you go to be _happy_. And because I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take you with me, because you wouldn't have come... You _didn't_."

"I'm 'ere, aren't I?" Andy remarked, turning a cold glance my way. His eyes met mine, and I stared into those two deep sapphires, watching no emotion play across their surfaces. Andy was a slate of rock, while I was on the edge of an outburst.

"Three weeks later. And it's not like you're rushing back to tell me you love me, too. So far you've said nothing... or whatever you _have _said hasn't made sense. Telling me not to put my hair up, what is up with that?"

Andy _still _didn't answer my question. "I'm 'ere though, that's what matters. 'N I'm 'ere 'cause I've got a lot t'say t'ya', so I'd 'preciate it if ya'd sit back down." His voice changed- his whole face softened. He wasn't commanding me, so much as pleading with me.

I sat down immediately, this time on the couch. Andy leaned forward, staring into my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I asked him quietly, "It doesn't matter why I left. But why did _you _come?"

"I need t'explain from th'very beginnin' first... If that's okay?"

"Of course," I mumbled, leaning forward as well. Our heads were less than a foot apart and in the silence of the house, it felt as if Andy and I were together away from everything else. We were on an island all our own, without anything or anyone else. Just us... _alone_.

Andy, too, inhaled heavily. Then, staring deep into my eyes, he began the story of _us_, as I had never heard it before.

"Peyton Maye, I found out ya' was'a comin' back th'_day _before I asked Naomi t'be mine. Th'very _day_. 'N I knew then, in th'moment I heard ya' was'a comin out, that I still wanted ya'. I knew it. There wasn't no doubt in my mind that I did. But I figured that ya' was'a still with that Brandon boy, so I asked 'er out t'protect myself. I didn't wanna' be alone when ya' came home, 'cause I woulda' had t'watch ya' be all in love with th'wrong boy. 'N don't get me wrong, now... I do love Naomi. I do love 'er. She gives me somethin' that no one else has, 'n I love 'er fer' that.

"But when ya' came back... _alone_, I didn't know what t'do. I couldn't leave Naomi 'n be with ya' 'gain- well," he stopped to chuckled. "I coulda'. But I wanted ya' t'know, fer' just a lil' bit how I felt. I knew that it was mean 'n really selfish o' me t'do that... But it's somethin' that I needed t'. 'Cause in all honesty, Peyton Maye, I sorta' hated ya'. I still kinda' do. Ya' left me. Ya' walked out o'my life 'cause I wasn't good enough-"

"That's not true!" I objected. "I never said that Andy."

He stopped me again. "I'm not done, Peyton Maye. Ya've got t'talk all summer 'bout how ya' was'a feelin'. Now it's _my _turn." I nodded and he continued, "I just.. I couldn't forgive ya'. Why ya' would do that t'me, I didn't know. But at th'same time, I knew I still cared 'bout ya. I just.. I couldn't go back t'ya' yet. I needed Naomi t'fill th'space that has been yours forever. Still.. when ya' showed up, everytime I was 'round ya', all I wanted t'do was kiss ya', t'take ya' in my arms 'n never let ya' go. So many times... I came so close. Then, on certain times, it just bubbled ova'- like at Backwood. I took ya' there 'cause I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. I knew I was gonna' walk 'way from there havin' kissed ya'. But once I _did _kiss ya'... I felt so guilty. I was'a pullin' us both back int' somethin' that we weren't ready for.

"I did fall in love with Naomi, mind ya'- I did love 'er. Although.. when I told ya' I loved 'er, I wanted ya' t'fight me on it. 'N when ya' did, I got mad at myself... not ya'. T'be honest, I didn't wanna love 'er; I just did. That's why it's taken me so long t'get 'ere- 'cause I had t'figure out a way t'put all these thoughts down.

"I wrote it all out on th'plane, but then.. now... I just... I don't know what t'say- I don't know how t'say how I feel 'bout ya'." Andy looked down at his lap and I stared in shock, aimlessly around the room. Here was Andy.. telling me these things, and I was still confused as ever. He hadn't said he loved me, or that he'd broken up with Naomi, but still- he was _here_ and not _there_.

"Just... tell me the truth," I begged. "That's it. That's all I want to hear."

"Th'_truth_," Andy chuckled to himself. "Th'truth is'a funny thing actually. Ya' want th'truth... _fine._ Here's th'truth:

"There isn't a word in th'English language t'describe how I feel 'bout ya'. There ain't a word _strong enough, _or _deep enough_.. t'really tell ya' just what I feel when I think 'bout o' see ya'. 'N even if there was... It would take millions o'pages, thousands o'years t'explain just what ya' mean t'me. I don't love ya', Peyton Maye... I can't just _love _ya'; that ain't good enough. Th'way I feel 'bout ya'... it's maddenin'. I look at ya', 'n all I wanna' do is be wit' ya'. I don't care 'bout nothin' when I ain't in your presence. Ya' drive me crazy- you're picky t'no end, dramatic enough that ya' make a movie 'n be all the characters in it, loud, temperamental 'n sometimes, I really just wanna' wring your neck.

"But at th'same time, I couldn't imagine bein' without ya'. I don't wanna' go anotha' day without ya'. I don't wanna' live if I ain't got ya', 'n I know that's crazy..."

"_No," _I sobbed, through the happiest tears I'd ever cried. "No it isn't."

"But I just... I need ya', baby. Dawlin', it's gotta' be ya'. 'N I don't care what nobody says.. I don't care.. 'cause it don't matta'. Th'only thing that mattas' t'me is that we're togetha'. Naomi, every otha' girl... they all mean nothin'. 'N Naomi knew, she broke up with me right afta' ya' left... Right afta' I told 'er that I was'a gonna' go afta' ya', t'get ya' back."

"What took you so long to get here?" I pressed, reaching out to stroke Andy's cheek.

"I needed time. I needed t'figure out if I could give up everythin' for ya'. I knew I would'a have t'leave Kentucky t'be with ya... 'Cause ya' wanna' live 'ere. I'd have t'move 'ere for ya'..."

"No baby," I smiled, so happy that he was willing to move here just to be with me. I scooted closer to him and rose to sit on his lap. "We're not staying here. The only reason I came back here was because I thought you needed space."

"This is as much space as I'll eva' need," Andy smiled, leaning forward so that there wasn't even a millimeter between us. "I don't eva' wanna' lose ya' again. I won't let ya' leave next time, 'n I'm so sorry I did th' first 'n second time. I'm sorry 'bout everythin'."

"Don't be, silly. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should've done everything to be with you... I was a coward, and had my nose stuck too high up in the air. I should've never left you in the first place. It's me who should be sorry. I love you, Andy. I love you more than anything."

"Peyton Maye," Andy said, looking up at me. "Peyton Maye Hale..." He tilted his head back so that our lips were centimeters apart. "Dawlin', you're all I'll eva' need. I love ya'." And with that, Andy kissed me. It was something so perfect, so sweet, and so amazing- that I melted. I couldn't have been more happy than I was in that moment. Andy had come back for me. The world made sense again. Every moment of summer suddenly seemed so flawless, even after everything we'd been through.

That night, Andy and I slept curled up on my bed. We couldn't stop smiling, or touching or kissing. We stayed glued together, as if just an inch would shatter this most perfect reality. I called Brandon, and my mom, and Grandmama, and everyone in the gang.. to tell them the wonderful news- that Andy and I were _finally _together. Everyone said the same thing, which made both Andy and I laugh as he kissed my forehead, "Well it's about time.."

The next morning, Andy and I watched the sun rise together... curled up in my comforter. Above us, a blackbird perched on a tree branch and I smiled, happy to see him return. "Dawlin', we've got t'go soon."

"To where?" I asked, leaning over to kiss Andy.

He smiled and pulled me closer, whispering in my ear. "Where else? Backwood o'course... that's our place now."

I grinned and nodded, pulling us both back towards the house. And right before we walked inside, the blackbird took flight- spreading his wings wide and letting loose the most beautiful sound. I smiled, feeling my heart soar up and right along beside him. Andy and I were together, everything had come full circle- everything made sense again. I was ready for anything.. for any challenge, as long as I had Andy.

Together, we could anything.

"Backwood," I mumbled. "_Here. We. Come." _


	33. Epilogue

By the time fall had come, my world had finally settled down. Andy and I were happy together; we'd fallen back into our old relationship so easily that it'd seemed we'd never stopped. Everyday, I was reminded of how lucky I was to have such a wonderful boyfriend, such a wonderful future husband... Andy and I were already talking about getting engaged. I told him college was the first step, and we planned to go to a university together in the spring semester.

My mom's production season had ended, and she'd moved back up to Kentucky to stay in our old house. I had opted to stay with Grandmama, since she still needed help around the farm. Andy, too, had been an influential factor in that decision. Everyday, we would ride or play or just spend time doing nothing. Our love grew stronger by every passing moment.

Brandon, too, seemed to have found his happy ending. He was now dating a girl at the University of North Carolina, where he was attending. Her name was Georgia, and she made him very happy. He was bringing her up for Thanksgiving, to Grandmama's giant feast. He and I talked almost every day, and Andy and Brandon were working- slowly but surely- towards becoming friends.

Arlene, Millie, and the rest of the gang welcomed me back with open arms. Millie and Arlene were both going to the University of Kentucky, where Charlie and Tommy had decided to go to the University of Louisville. Sandra was living with her resident doctor boyfriend, but happy all the same. We met up on the weekends or would go out to the cabins at often as possible. Everything in our lives seemed to make sense now; everyone was so happy.

I couldn't imagine my happy ending any differently. Everything was so perfect and I practically waltzed through each and every day. Even on this morning, I danced around Grandmama's kitchen, waiting for Andy to show up for breakfast. He'd called that morning, telling me that he was bringing me a surprise... but still hadn't shown. To pass the time, I busied myself making breakfast. Cracking eggs, beating pancake batter, the whole routine was simple and carefree and I hummed a tune that didn't belong to a song.

Suddenly, the phone rang.. and I jumped, not expecting the shrill sound to cut through my dreamlike state. I answered it on the third ring, breathless, "Hello?"

There was a pause before a gruff voice that I didn't recognize answered, "Peyton.. is that you?"

"Who is this?" I inquired, trying to place the voice. It sounded oddly familiar, like someone I hadn't talked to in forever. But I wasn't quite sure who it was, so I asked a second time.

"Maye.. you've got to come help me. I'm in a lot of trouble.."

"Who is that?" I demanded, close to hanging up. It was probably a prank call or _something_. "And why are you calling me Maye?"

"That's what I always used to call you, don't you remember?" The voice responded, sighing. "God, that was so long ago."

"Who in the hell are you?" I cried, and I heard the screen door open and shut. Andy walked into the kitchen looking really confused. I motioned to the phone as I waited for the voice to respond.

"Peyton.. baby, this is your _father_."

Briefly, I remembered the phone sliding from my hands.. then the next thing I know, there was the sound of eggs smashing to the ground as I took the carton down with me in my fall. I collapsed to the floor, as if there hadn't been one there to begin with. Right before I passed out, I thought one thing:

_Daddy, what took you so long? _

Then... _my world went black_.

* * *

**Thank you all _so _much for reading! Love, Jesse.**


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